Asking Everything In Return
by Heavenli24
Summary: Logan has returned from his six-month deployment and now it's back to the real world. Third in the Second Chances series, sequel to Coming Home to You.
1. Chapter 1

**Title** : Asking Everything in Return  
 **Pairing:** Logan/Veronica  
 **Rating** : Mature  
 **Summary:** Logan has returned from his six-month deployment and now it's back to the real world. Third in the Second Chances series, sequel to Coming Home to You

 **Author's Notes:** I'm generally sticking to the main plot points of MKAT, however, this is my 'fix-it' story – it's how I would have liked to have seen things play out between Logan and Veronica in the book, instead of what we got… so some parts of the book will be the same, others a little different.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

The first few days after Logan arrives home are a strange combination of surreal and incredible. He has two weeks of post-deployment leave and so far, he's spent all of it at her apartment. After his homecoming Friday evening and their blissful Saturday together, it's straight back to regular life for Veronica. The California bar exam starts on Tuesday in Los Angeles, so most of Sunday and Monday are filled with last-minute studying, while Logan spends the majority of the time sleeping and eating.

By late Thursday evening, Veronica is wiped. The three-day bar exam is finally over, and with two three-hour sessions of essay writing each day, she's exhausted… and not entirely sure how she managed to survive the final day of testing without either falling asleep or completely losing her mind.

When she lets herself into her small, cosy Dog Beach apartment, she finds Logan lounging on the second-hand, grey-and white-striped couch she found in a small thrift store along the PCH, one foot resting on the cushions, knee drawn up, the other flat on the floor. A well-worn paperback is in his hand. Veronica's eyes involuntarily drift over his prone form. He's clad in a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitting US Navy t-shirt, and God, he looks good.

"Hey," he says, giving a small smile and nodding in acknowledgement as she drops her bag to the floor. "How'd it go?"

"Well, it was long. And exhausting," she says, kicking off her shoes and walking over to him, bare feet padding across the hardwood floor.

"But it went okay?" he asks, discarding the book to one side and pulling himself up into a sitting position, placing his feet flat on the floor.

"Hope so, but let's not talk about it anymore," she says, placing one knee on the couch, and bracing her hands on his shoulders as she straddles his lap. "I need a distraction."

"You do, huh?" He grins up at her, his hands coming to her waist. "I think that can be arranged."

Veronica smiles back, a familiar warmth building in her chest as she curls her fingers around the back of his neck, stroking the skin gently.

"You didn't spend the whole day just sprawled across my living room furniture, did you?" she asks teasingly.

He seems to ponder that for a moment, before the side of his mouth tugs up into a smirk.

"No, not the _whole_ day," he says. "I took a shower in the bathroom, ate a sandwich in the kitchen, took a nap in the bedroom."

"So, a productive day, then." Veronica schools her features into an expression of faux-sympathy as she adds, "Wow, you must be exhausted."

"You would think," he says, shifting slightly beneath her, curving his hands around her bottom. "But now that you're here, I might just be able to find my second wind."

"Really?" she says airily. "Well, I've just spent six hours answering essay questions, so I'll leave you with your second wind and go get some sleep."

"Aw, what?" He grumbles, frowning as she moves to stand, his hands clutching her hips to keep her there, as his lower lip juts out in a pout. "You can't do that."

"I can't?" Veronica feigns innocence, looking down at him.

She keeps a straight face as long as she can—which isn't all that long at all when he's looking at her like that—before grinning.

"I don't know what I was thinking." Her arms slide around his neck again as she lowers herself back down onto his lap. "Of course I can't."

"Damn fuckin' right you can't," he replies emphatically.

"I'm so glad you're home," she murmurs softly, pressing her forehead to his.

"Me, too." He smiles, relaxing when she runs her fingers through his hair.

She brings one hand around to cup his jaw, tilting it up until their mouths are almost touching, then lets her tongue slip out, licking her lips, swiping across his lower lip with the tip as she does so. Logan shudders beneath her.

"V'ronica," he murmurs, pleading, stretching up to capture her mouth with his.

She lets him, just for a moment, then pulls back. She grins when he goes in again, straightening just as he catches her lower lip between his, leaving him chasing after her again. When she does it a third time, he stops, pulling back with a frown.

"Quit teasing."

"Teasing?" she enquires innocently. She leans in, lowering her mouth to his ear, swirling her tongue around the lobe. "What is this thing you call 'teasing'?"

"Geez," he mutters, voice strangled as his fingers dig into the flesh of her bottom, tugging her close so she can feel his arousal.

Veronica bites back a moan. It feels so good to be able to do this again, to have him right here with her, to be able to touch him whenever she likes.

"Bedroom?" he asks throatily, jerking his head in the direction of her room.

She lifts her head, gives a wicked smile. "Nah, right here is good for me."

"Okay, then." His palms slide along her denim-clad thighs and she shivers.

"Just…" She slides back and stands up, holding one finger up. "Gimme one second."

She turns to leave and hears him groan behind her. "Seriously?"

Okay, so she feels a little guilty for leaving him hanging, but she's pretty sure he doesn't have any protection stashed in those sweatpants, so a trip to the bedroom it is. Ducking inside the room, she strips off her top and jeans, then reaches for her favourite shirt—Logan's navy-blue button down—and slips it on over her bra and panties, leaving it unbuttoned. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she grabs a condom from the bedside drawer and tucks it into her bra before heading out to the living room again.

Logan's back to flipping the pages of his paperback and Veronica smirks, sauntering up behind him and slipping her arms around his shoulders.

"Forget about me, already?"

He grins, turning his head and stealing a kiss. "Never."

Veronica straightens, letting her fingers trail along the back of the cushions as she rounds the couch. She comes to a stop in front of him, plucking the book out of his hands and dropping it onto the coffee table.

"Okay, buddy, get comfortable." She nudges him sideways and he complies, stretching out on the sofa, one arm propped beneath his head as he looks up at her with a lazy grin.

"You just gonna stand there and flash your underwear at me from under that shirt, or are you gonna…?" He frowns then. "Wait, isn't that _my_ shirt?"

"Yes, it is." Veronica grins, kneeling over him, straddling his hips. "And no, I'm not."

"Hmm…" She sits back on her heels, resting against his thighs and letting her fingers run down over his cotton-covered stomach. "Shirt. Off."

He quirks an eyebrow but doesn't move. "Demanding, aren't we?"

"Yeah, well, I've had a long day. A long three days," she amends. "I think I deserve to be at least a little demanding."

He purses his lips, studying her for a moment, before giving a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. What the lady wants…"

He sits up, and Veronica can feel his abdominal muscles flexing beneath her fingers. Not for the first time in the last few months, she wonders what happened to the slouching, slightly soft-around-the-edges Logan she knew ten years ago _._ Not that she doesn't love how he is now, but sometimes, it's like he's turned into a completely different person. He tugs the shirt off and moves to toss it away, but Veronica swipes it from his fingers, holding it up to her nose, inhaling the familiar notes of his cedar and sandalwood cologne.

God, she's missed his scent.

"Okay, eww." She opens her eyes. He's watching her with distaste, nose wrinkled, though his eyes are sparkling with amusement. "You know that's all sweaty, right?"

"Shut up," she admonishes playfully, pointing at the button-down she's wearing. "I needed a fix… this one stopped smelling like you months ago."

"Hey, I'm right here." He gestures to himself. "Instant fix any time you like."

She drops the shirt to the floor, smiling happily as she leans down over him, resting her palms on his chest as she kisses him softly, then murmurs, "I know."

His lips curl up into a smile and he lifts a hand to her face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail along her cheek. His expression softens and Veronica finds herself falling into his tender gaze. He tilts his chin, kisses her again, and she has to bite back a sigh of pleasure at the feel of his mouth on hers.

He nuzzles her nose, then murmurs teasingly, "So, we just making small talk here, or are we gonna fuck? 'Cause I got things do to."

Veronica gasps, affronted, swatting at his bare chest. "Fuck off, you do not."

He seems to think about it for a moment, before relenting. "Yeah, you're right. I'm all yours."

"Yes, you are." She grins.

"Seriously though, folks. Let's get the ball rolling, shall we?" He returns his arm to its former position behind his head, lazy grin back in place. With the other arm, he gestures toward his crotch. "It's all yours."

Veronica just arches one eyebrow, glancing down at the arousal obvious through his sweatpants, before giving an amused snort.

"Not quite what I had in mind. At least not right now." She pauses, narrowing her eyes. "You know, I'm the one who's been stuck in an exam hall for the past three days while you've just been lounging around my apartment doing nothing; if anything, _you_ should be the one doing all the work here."

Logan shrugs, giving a throaty chuckle. ""Hey, this position was your idea, not mine."

Veronica gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, then leans in so their lips are almost touching. "Hey, Logan?"

"Yes, Veronica?"

"Stop talking."

Without waiting for a response, she closes the gap, capturing his lips with hers, pouring everything she's feeling into the kiss—playfulness, tenderness, affection. He responds without hesitation, arms tightening around her, palms flat against her back.

 _He feels amazing_ , Veronica muses absently as his tongue tangles with hers, as his hands roam her body beneath the shirt, as he extracts the condom from her bra and frees himself from the sweatpants, rolling it on. _I've missed this so much._

Not even bothering with further removal of clothes, Logan tugs her panties to one side and slides up into her, making her gasp. They start slow, just savouring the feel of being together again, stealing kisses between sighs and moans, then Logan grabs her hips, fingers digging into her skin, guiding her movements as he thrusts up into her, harder and faster, and Veronica can't stop the moans of pleasure slipping from her lips as she tips over the edge, falling into ecstasy.

"Mmm," Logan mumbles when she curls up against him, spent, his hands roaming her back beneath the soft material of his shirt. "That was good."

Veronica lifts her head incredulously. "Good? That's all you got?"

He grins, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. "Okay, that was fuckin' A. Not to mention much needed."

"Well, excuse me for being too stressed and tired to have sex the last couple of days." She tries to keep it playful, though a hint of annoyance sneaks through.

"Hey." He shifts, glancing down at her. "Sorry, I didn't mean… I wasn't expecting… Shit, I know how fucking hard you've worked this week."

"I know what you meant." Veronica says reassuringly, relaxing back against him. "Besides, the exam is over now, which means I have lots of free time to spend with you."

"What about work? Your cases?"

"I'm taking the rest of the week off, and some of next week too."

"Yeah?"

"Yep, I'm all yours. Until Wednesday morning, anyway." She pauses, unsure whether to bring the next topic up now or wait until closer to the time. "Although…"

Logan stills beneath her, sensing her hesitance. "What is it?"

"You're invited for dinner Monday night." She tries not to cringe as she adds, "At my dad's."

He sighs, looking to the ceiling. "Yeah? He seriously wants me there?"

"Yes. And yes, he does."

"He doesn't like me, Veronica." He sounds resigned.

She frowns, looking up at him, resting her chin on her hand over his chest. "What are you talking about? He likes you."

"He tolerates me, for your sake. But that's about it," he states bluntly. "He blames me for keeping you here."

Okay, he may kind of have a point. Even though Veronica has told Keith over and over that he decision to stay in Neptune has little to do with Logan, he still doesn't seem entirely convinced.

She shakes her head though. "No, he doesn't… okay, I'll admit, he might have some small reservations, but that's more about me than you."

"I don't know, Veronica…"

"Come on," she says, resting her hand on his chest and propping her chin up on it so she can look at him. "You've faced a hell of a lot worse than a dinner with my father. Please?"

He glances at her doubtfully, before giving a heavy sigh. "Okay, fine. I'll go. For you."

She smiles, kisses his chest. "Thank you."

* * *

"So, Logan, must be nice to be back on US soil again," says Keith, cutting into his steak at dinner a few nights later.

Logan eyes the juices spilling from the man's tender cut as he nods. "Yes, sir."

"Bet you're glad to be off that ship, right?"

Logan grins wryly at that. "Definitely, sir."

Keith stops, fork midway to his mouth, and frowns, eyes narrowing. "You know, I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic with all this 'sir' stuff."

"Oh, definitely serious, sir." Logan replies, giving a solemn nod.

He _is_ being serious—Navy etiquette and all that—but Veronica doesn't look convinced of that as she hides a smirk behind her glass of wine.

"Right," says Keith, reaching for the bottle of wine and topping up his glass, then holding it up towards Logan. "You sure you don't want any wine?"

He sees Veronica look toward him hesitantly, but he just shrugs. He has nothing to hide, or be ashamed of anymore. "No, thanks, Mr. Mars. I'm fine with water."

Keith's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Guess alcohol and flying planes don't mix, huh?"

Logan glances toward Veronica, who gives him a reassuring smile, before shaking his head. "No, it's not that. I can drink when I'm not on duty. It's just that I don't. Not anymore."

Keith looks surprised. "You don't drink? At all?"

He shakes his head. "After… what happened… well I—"

"Almost eight years sober now, right?" Veronica reaches across the table to squeeze his hand.

Logan looks over at her, gives a warm smile. "Yeah."

"Oh." Keith blinks, looking between the two of them. "Wow. Okay." As he cut into his steak again, he mumbled, "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Dad!" Veronica admonishes, glancing at Logan apologetically.

"Hey, it's okay," Logan says, before turning to Keith. "You're not the first person to have said that. Believe me."

Keith nods, turning back to his steak. They eat in silence and Logan takes the opportunity to reflect on the evening so far. He's been expecting Veronica to try to commandeer the conversation, steer it away from anything personal, like she had that time they had dinner with her father back in college, but she's been surprisingly quiet this time, allowing he and Keith to engage in casual conversation without interrupting.

"So, Logan, what are your plans now you're home?" Keith speaks up a couple of minutes later.

"I'm due to start shore rotation next week, so I'll be on dry land for the next 18 months or so."

"And what do you do on shore rotation?"

"I've been assigned to the Fleet Readiness Center down at North Island," Logan says. "I'll be running diagnostics on the F/A-18s."

"Which means what, exactly?" asks Keith, leaning forward with interest.

"I help them discover what's wrong with the jets before it's too late to fix them."

"Wait," Veronica interrupts with a frown. "You'll be flying broken planes? Isn't that dangerous?"

"It'll only be testing for minor faults, under controlled conditions," Logan assures her. "It's pretty safe."

"So, you'll be living down on the base in San Diego?" asks Keith then, his implication clear.

"Well, I have a condo just off-base," he says, avoiding Veronica's gaze. "Guess I'll be living there."

Keith nods, looking between Logan and Veronica. "And what about the two of you? What are your plans now?"

Logan tries not to wince as he attempts to form a suitable response. "Uh…"

"Dad, come on," Veronica cuts in, looking annoyed, if not slightly uncomfortable. "That's kinda our business, not yours."

"Sorry." Keith holds his hands up. "You're right. Not my business."

Conversation turns to Mars Investigations and the latest happenings in Neptune, for which Logan is grateful. To be honest, while he has been staying with Veronica since he got back, he's not entirely sure what's going to happen when he has to return to work next week. They haven't exactly discussed future living arrangements yet.

* * *

"So," Veronica says as Logan pulls the BMW up outside her apartment building later that evening. "You staying here tonight, or you just dropping me off and heading back to your bachelor pad in San Diego?"

There's a bite to her tone and Logan sighs. He should have seen this coming; she's been even more uncharacteristically quiet since the whole San Diego discussion at dinner.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Veronica," he says, turning to her, one hand resting on the steering wheel.

"Do I?" She lifts an eyebrow challengingly. "I thought you were pretty clear with the whole 'I'm gonna live in San Diego' thing."

"What did you expect me to say?" he shoots back. " _'Oh, yes, Mr. Mars, I plan to shack up with your daughter and have illicit sex with her for the next 18 months'_? I'm sure that would have gone down well."

Veronica opens her mouth to retort, then closes it quickly and sinks back into her seat, relenting. "Yeah, okay."

"Look," he says softly. "I didn't know what else to say. We haven't exactly talked about it, you know… about what happens next."

She sighs. "I know. I know we haven't."

"So, maybe we should," he says hesitantly. "Talk about it."

"Yeah, we should." She nods. "But not tonight."

She reaches for the door handles and climbs out of the car. Logan watches as she heads towards the apartment, before giving a sigh and following her.

 _Guess some things haven't changed._

Logan remains silent as they climb the three flights of steps to her apartment, while she unlocks the door, but when they step inside and she heads straight for the bedroom, he stops her with a hand on her arm.

"I think we should talk about this now," he says when she looks up at him questioningly. "I know you, Veronica…if we don't, you're just gonna keep putting it off."

She studies him for a long moment, then nods, moving over to the sofa and sinking down onto it. "Okay, fine. Let's talk."

Logan joins her, sitting with one leg bent beneath him so he can face her side-on. She's watching him expectantly, but Logan doesn't speak right away, just takes a moment to look at her, admiring her gorgeous features illuminated by the soft light from the lamp across the room.

"Logan?" she queries.

He just smiles softly, then, unable to help himself, leans in, cups her cheek, and kisses her. When he pulls back, he finds her looking at him with amusement.

"What?"

She gives a wry smile. "I thought I was about to get a lecture. You know, something about not opening up…"

Logan shakes his head. "I'm not gonna lecture you, Veronica. I just want us to do it right this time, talk about these things instead of tiptoeing around them. Make sure we're on the same page here."

"Yeah, okay." She looks sheepish. "Sorry."

"Okay, so, as of next week, I'm going to be working on base every day," he says. "In San Diego. And you'll be here, in Neptune."

"Right," she agrees. "And I guess the logical thing would be for you to live in San Diego and me to live here."

"Yeah, and we could see each other on the weekends," he says, then pauses, levelling her with a thoughtful look. "But do you want to do that?"

Veronica grimaces. "Not really."

"So, maybe, we could… live together?"

That causes a wince, along with a 'deer in headlights' expression, which, though not unexpected, still causes a twinge of disappointment.

"I, uh… I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she admits, looking apologetic. "You've only been back a few days."

"I know." He reaches over, taking her hand, and she sighs.

"See, this is why I didn't want to talk about it," she admits. "It's too soon to be making big decisions like this."

 _Okay, fair enough_. _She has a point_.

"Yeah, you're right," he says.

It wouldn't be fair on Veronica to ask her to live in San Diego, away from her father and Mac and Wallace. Yet, he can't really give up his condo either, not just because he's tied into a lease, but also because he wants somewhere close to the base where he can stay if he needs to. It wouldn't make sense to rent somewhere in Neptune as well, and staying with Dick is out because he doesn't even have a bedroom there, just a makeshift bed. So, really, the only solution that makes sense is—

"Look." Veronica squeezes his hand. "I'm not saying I don't want to, you know, live together… but we're still getting to know each other again. Can't we just take things as they come and see what happens, rather than making anything official just yet?"

Logan nods. "Yeah, okay."

She smiles then. "Great."

"So, just to be clear… I'm staying here tonight, right?"

Veronica smiles, a smile that lights up her face, as she leans forward. Just before her lips touch his, she whispers. "Of course you are."

* * *

The remainder of Logan's leave passes in a blur of sated bliss, punctuated by a few trips into the office and stake-outs, some of which Logan decides to tag along for. He claims it's because he wants to spend time with her, but Veronica thinks it's more likely he's bored stuck in her apartment.

She can only imagine what it's like to have been in such a high-intensity, dangerous environment for months at a time, always on the go, only to come back and suddenly have nothing to do. More than once in the last few days, Veronica has been woken in the night by Logan startling awake, shooting up in the bed, thinking he's still on the ship. Each time, he apologises, assuring her he won't do it again, but it seems to be a subconscious reaction and not something he can control.

Once he returns to work and they start to settle into some semblance of a routine, he begins sleeping much more peacefully.

It's nice, actually: each morning, Logan gets up early for a run, trying not to wake Veronica in the process, though he's usually unsuccessful, then she drags herself out of bed and fixes breakfast while he showers and dresses. After he's left for the base, Veronica gets ready herself and heads into the office. Depending on her workload, sometimes she's home before Logan returns and starts making dinner, and other days, when she's been on stakeouts or in the office late into the evening, he's either lounging on the sofa or waiting for her in bed.

Tonight, though, it's after midnight when she gets home, having spent the day in Los Angeles following leads for her latest case, then getting stuck in Friday evening traffic for three hours and also having to head into the office when she finally made it back to Neptune.

The lights are off when she lets herself into the apartment and for a moment, she thinks maybe she's just dreamed the last four weeks and that Logan is still on the ship and hasn't come home yet. But then she turns on the lamp and spots his cover on the kitchen counter, and one of his US Navy T-shirts strewn across the couch and she sighs with relief.

There's a note on the counter, which she picks up with interest:

 _Tried to wait up, but too exhausted._

 _Dinner's in the fridge if you haven't eaten._

 _L_

Veronica smiles as she places it back down on the worktop. She grabbed some take-out before heading to the office earlier, but forgot to message Logan to let him know she wouldn't need any dinner. But even if she _was_ hungry, the call of her bed—with Logan in it—is much too tempting.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth, she pries open the bedroom door and tiptoes inside. She can just about make out Logan's sleeping form in the bed as she tugs off her clothes, fumbling around for her sleep-shirt—another of his t-shirts—and pulling it over her head. She slips into the bed, snuggling up to Logan's warm, bare back, slipping her arm around his waist and pressing her nose to the skin between his shoulder blades. He shifts a little, letting out a small, incoherent mumble, and she smiles, relaxing against him and drifting off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Just to note that I'll be keeping the main plot points of MKAT the same, in terms of Veronica's case, but I wanted to expand on Logan and Veronica's scenes and their relationship in the book, so that will be my main concentration, with the case taking a backseat.

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Hey, man."

Logan looks up from the notes he's writing up in relation to the jet he tested all morning to find Chaos leaning against the doorframe of his small office. His squadron-mate has also been assigned to the Fleet Readiness Center for shore rotation, so they've been working together a lot lately.

"Hey, what's up?"

"You up for a drink in the I-Bar?" asked Chaos, sauntering into the office and taking a seat in the chair in the corner. "Sarah has her fitness class tonight, so I don't have to get home just yet, and I've barely seen you outside of work the last few weeks."

"Sure," he says, reaching for his cell. "Let me just…"

"Checking with the missus?" Chaos grins.

"No," Logan shoots back with narrowed eyes, as he sends a quick text to Veronica. "She's working late tonight. Just letting her know I might not be home when she gets in."

He tidies his paperwork, then joins Chaos as they head over to the bar. Logan doesn't really think about what he said until his friend brings it up over a drink a few minutes later.

"So, home, huh?" Chaos asks, taking a swig of beer.

"What?" Logan frowns.

"Earlier, you said you might not be 'home' when Veronica gets back." Chaos grins. "All I can say is, damn, you move fast."

"It's not like that." Logan shakes his head. "I've just been staying with her in Neptune the last few weeks. Nothing official, we're just seeing where things go."

"And making up for lost time, I bet."

"That, too," he agrees.

"So, it's going well?"

"Yeah." Logan can't stop himself from smiling as he nods, his thoughts drifting to the easy, drama-free routine he and Veronica have fallen into since he got home. "Yeah, it is."

Chaos claps a hand against his back. "Good going, man."

"Yeah." He nods. "You know, I wasn't expecting it to be this easy, being with her again."

At Chaos' questioning look, he elaborates.

"We don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships. Normally, it's all death and destruction and life-threatening situations… but this time, it's just us, finding our feet. These days, we're just arguing over what to have for dinner, or who gets the TV remote. It's kind of weird."

Chaos chuckles, shaking his head as he lifts his beer to his lips again.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just… you're the only person I know who thinks there's something wrong if there _isn't_ any drama or heartbreak in his relationship." Chaos smiles. "Just enjoy it, man. Embrace the domestic bliss while—"

"While it lasts?" Logan finishes knowingly.

"No." The look Chaos shoots him is verging on exasperated. "While you have the chance to. You're on shore rotation, you're gonna be home for 18 months. Make the most of it."

"Yeah." Logan nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. It's just… it's like I'm waiting for something to go wrong."

"Well, if you think like that, it probably will," says Chaos reasonably. "I mean it, Mouth. Don't look a gift horse in the… well, you know."

"Yeah…"

Chaos is right, as usual. He has to stop assuming the worst and start embracing what he has. 'Cause fuck, what he has right now is pretty fucking incredible.

"Hey, you and Veronica coming to the squadron dining-in night next Friday?" Chaos changes the subject.

Logan sits up. "Shit, I forgot about that."

"Names have to be in by tomorrow afternoon," Chaos reminds him.

"Well, I'm in, but I don't know about Veronica," he says. "She doesn't seem too interested in embracing the military life."

Chaos frowns. "She's not supportive?"

"No, it's not that." Logan shakes his head. "She won't admit it, but I think she's intimidated. She likes to be in situations where she's in control, where she has the upper hand—"

"Sounds kinky." Chaos interrupts with a smirk, lifting his beer to his lips. "Bet she's great in the sack."

"Fuck off," Logan retorts, shooting him a bemused look. "I'm serious. It freaks her out when she has no control over her surroundings." He shrugs. "She has her reasons."

"I'm sure she does," Chaos says seriously. "Look, Sarah and I will be there too; I'm sure we can work something out with the seating chart. And you know my wife's just dying to meet 'the girl who's finally captured your heart'—her words, not mine."

"Yeah."

Logan considers this for a moment. He hasn't pushed for Veronica to attend Navy-related events because he knows she's not comfortable with them, but truth be told, he would love it if she took more of an interest in his career. He wants to be able to share his military life with her, to show her this side of him as well as the regular Logan.

"You're right. I'll talk to her tonight."

"Great." Chaos smiles. "So now that's sorted, on to more pressing matters. You got your bets in for the soccer sweepstakes yet?"

* * *

The lights are still on when Logan lets himself into Veronica's apartment later that evening, which means she's still awake. He kicks off his boots and tugs the top half of his flight suit down, letting it drop to his waist, as he makes his way through the apartment. He finds her sitting up in bed, clad in one of his shirts, laptop perched on her knees and papers strewn across the bed. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, face scrubbed clean of make-up, and her brow is furrowed in concentration as she types.

"Hey," he says, leaning in the doorway.

She looks up in surprise, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh, hey."

"What's all this?" He asks, crossing the room and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Thought you said 'no cases in the bedroom'?"

"No, what I said was 'no _discussing_ cases in the bedroom'," she replies, turning back to the screen. "I'd rather not contaminate our private time with other people's infidelities. Besides, you were out, and the bed is more comfortable than the kitchen stools."

He nods, watching her work for a moment, before saying, "So, you about done for the night?"

"Almost," she says distractedly, still typing. "Just gimme a few more minutes."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna get washed up." He slides off the bed. "Back in a minute."

In the bathroom, he pulls off the rest of his flight suit, before dropping his t-shirt and socks in the laundry basket in the corner. When he's washed and done, he returns to the bedroom… where Veronica is still working, flicking through notes and frowning at the screen.

"You still not done yet?" he asks, depositing his flight suit over the chair and then tugging off his boxers and slipping into the bed beside her. She doesn't even look up.

She grimaces. "Nearly… there's got to be something I'm missing here, but I can't figure out what it is."

"Can I help?"

"No," she says, not looking up at him. "It's okay. I'll figure it out eventually."

He smirks. "You think maybe you could figure it out tomorrow?"

"Just a sec…"

"Veronica?" he says teasingly.

"What?" she asks absently.

"I would seriously advise you stop working now." He leans in, mouth close to her ear. "Or your gonna miss out on some fucking incredible orgasms."

That gets her attention. Her eyes snaps to his, then lower to his bare torso, her gaze turning hungry.

She swallows, then clears her throat. "Uh, well, if you insist."

She snaps the laptop shut, then quickly gathers up the notes and papers, shoving them into a pile and sliding them and the laptop onto the bedside table. When she turns to him, there's a wicked glint in her eye.

She slides onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and Logan's eyes widen when he realises she isn't wearing any underwear.

"You've been sitting there, almost completely naked, this whole time?" he wonders, his hand slipping under the hem of the shirt and palming one butt cheek, giving it a teasing squeeze, before running his palm up her back and round to cup her breast. "How can you even concentrate?"

"With a lot of skill and practice," she says solemnly. "It's an art form."

She moves in to kiss him, her mouth warm and inviting against his, and he responds eagerly.

"So, how was your day?" she asks, her voice breathy, when they part. "How were drinks with Chaos?"

"Eh, it was okay." He nods, letting one hand drift up and down her back absently. "Spent the morning testing one of the jets for faulty warning lights, then the afternoon writing it all up in a report. Fun times. But Chaos is good."

He almost mentions the formal squadron dinner next Friday night, but he bites his tongue for now, knowing he has to choose his moment, when she's more likely to be receptive to the idea… perhaps after a round of head-spinning sex.

"Good."

"So… you're here, I'm here, we're practically naked… what shall we do with ourselves?"

"Well, you did mention something about giving me fucking incredible orgasms," she reminds him, walking her fingers down over his stomach. His abdominal muscles clench, heat shooting to his groin. "Though you've been doing an awful lot of that lately. I think it must be my turn." She shifts off him. "Lie down."

He smirks, breathing quickening in anticipation. "That an order or a request?"

"It's an order, Lieutenant."

"Roger that." He nods, giving a cheeky salute.

He slides down so he's lying back against the pillows, his hands coming to Veronica's hips when she moves atop him once more. She leans down, pressing her mouth to his in a heated kiss, then murmurs against his lips, "Just lie back and think of England."

"Oh, no, baby," he responds, bringing his hand up to cup the back of her neck. "I'll be thinking of nothing but you."

" _Baby_?" She lifts her head a little, nose scrunched up in amused distaste. "Please don't say that, it's weird."

Logan affects a pout. "Aw, and here I thought you loved sappy pet names."

Veronica just narrows her eyes at him, before lowering her mouth to his once again. Logan's hands slide up over her skin, bringing the shirt with them and urging it up. She breaks the kiss, lifting up to let him pull it over her head, then lowers her mouth to his neck. He shudders when her lips brush over a particularly sensitive spot.

Her bottom is pressing back against his arousal tantalisingly and he has to fight the urge to lift her up and slide into her, but then she moves lower, her lips meandering down over his skin, tongue flicking out to trace his nipples, and he gets caught up in the sensations she's creating in him instead, his eyes closing and head falling back against the pillow. He keeps them closed until he feels her settle against his thighs, the wet warmth of her pressing against his skin, as her hand closes around his length.

"Oh, fuck… Veronica."

He hisses, watching with hooded eyes as she begins to stroke him, fingers gripping, hand twisting as she moves slowly up and down. When she finally lowers her mouth, taking him in, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh, he can't help the strangled gasp that escapes his lips. It feels incredible, like there's fire spreading through his whole body. She won't let him come though, stops just when he's close and shifts up again, reaching for a condom from the bedside table and sliding it on. She guides him to her entrance, lowering her body so he's just barely inside her.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes locking with his, and something passes between them; it's like he's looking into her soul or something and then everything feels that much more intense. She doesn't look away as she slowly takes him in. His hands come to her hips, fingers digging into her skin as she moves above him. It feels incredible, her inner muscles rippling around him, sending thrills of pleasure up his spine.

"Come here," he murmurs, sliding one hand around to her lower back, urging her down towards him.

She smiles softly in response, as she leans over and lowers her mouth to his, her hair brushing his chest. Her tongue darts out, traces his lower lip, before sucking it into her mouth. Logan shivers, his eyes sliding closed. He cups her bottom, guiding her movements, his breath coming faster now, waves of pleasure flowing through him.

"So," he whispers mischievously when she releases his lip. "That all you got?"

Her eyebrow quirks. "What do _you_ think? We're just getting started."

She lowers her mouth to his again, kissing him soundly, her tongue tangling with his. It feels amazing. He's only been back home a few weeks, but it's like his deployment is a distant memory now, like he can barely remember what it was like to be without her for so long.

When her muscles flutter around him again, squeezing deliciously, he takes matters into his own hands, flipping them over and trapping her beneath him. The movement causes him to shift inside her, pressing deeper, and she gasps with pleasure.

He slides out of her, ignoring her whimper of disappointment, and kneels between her legs as he pins her hands to the pillow above her head.

"Logan…" she mutters breathlessly, her eyes dark and hooded as she looks up at him. "Please…"

"Patience…" he says teasingly, before lowering his mouth to her clavicle, suckling at the sensitive spot just _there_ until she's writhing beneath him.

He enters her again, and she gasps, her wrists twisting beneath his grip. He maintains eye contact as he strokes inside her, slow and steady, working her up until she tenses beneath him, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. He doesn't let up as she rides it out, just pushes harder and faster, prolonging her pleasure while simultaneously building his own. When he comes, it's with a sharp gasp, her name tumbling from his mouth.

"Wow…" she murmurs when he releases her hands and shifts off her and onto his back. "I so needed that."

"Yeah," he replies, looking at the ceiling as he catches his breath. "Me too."

She snuggles close to him, arm slipping around his waist, her skin hot and clammy against his.

They lie together in silence, Logan tracing gentle patterns along her arm as he listens to her soft breathing. It's a few minutes before Logan remembers about the formal dinner next week.

"V'ronica?"

His question is met with a light snore and he snorts a small chuckle. He'll ask her in the morning.

* * *

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" asks Veronica, tugging self-consciously on her dress as they enter the officer's mess on Logan's base a week later. "I don't know anyone here."

"You know me," Logan says, holding the door for her. "And you've met Chaos before. Plus, his wife is really looking forward to meeting you."

"She is?" Veronica is sceptical. "She's not mad I never called her while you were away?"

Logan shakes his head. "Of course not; she understands."

That makes her brows rise, and she turns to Logan, her voice carefully controlled as she says, "Logan, what exactly _did_ you tell these people about me?"

He frowns, looking down at her, his hand resting on her lower back, palm warm through the thin material of her long, flowing dress.

"Nothing bad. I promise." He leans down, presses a gentle kiss just below her ear. It makes her shiver. "You'll be fine. Just follow my lead, and just ask if you're not sure about anything."

Veronica bites her lip, glancing around the so-called Ante Room filled with people. The men, and a few women, are dressed in smart formal uniform, same as Logan, while their 'plus ones', mainly women, are wearing long ballgowns.

When Logan told her about the dinner last Thursday morning, her initial reaction was a resounding 'no'. The thought of attending an official military function, filled with unfamiliar formal etiquette and rules, filled her with dread, but Logan knew just how to work her to get her to cave and by the time he left for the base an hour later, she'd agreed vehemently…several times.

What he hadn't told her was that she was going to have to go dress shopping—it seemed these dining-in nights had a strict dress code: black tie for the men, floor-length ballgown-style dresses for the women, shoulders covered at all times. At the time, she didn't really take him seriously, convinced she would be fine in one of her mid-length dresses, but Logan insisted, so on Saturday afternoon, she enlisted the help of Mac, and they went dress shopping. After almost three hours of hunting, she finally purchased a long, flowing red dress; it was Logan's favourite colour on her.

Pulling it on earlier this evening, and draping a matching silk wrap across her shoulders, she felt uncomfortable and self-conscious, but looking around the room now, she's glad Logan convinced her to buy a new dress. She would definitely be out of place in something shorter.

"Ah, Mouth, there you are."

Veronica looks up to see the man she vaguely recognises as Chaos approaching them. On his arm is a tall, slender woman in a shimmering navy blue dress, dark curls flowing over one shoulder. This must be his wife. Chaos claps Logan on the shoulder, before turning to Veronica and taking her hand.

"Veronica, lovely to see you again." He shoots her a grin as he lifts her hand to his lips, and Veronica can't help but smile back.

"Oh, knock it off, Romeo." The woman beside him swats his arm. She turns to Veronica with a raised eyebrow. "He's just putting on a show for you."

Chaos frowns, dropping Veronica's hand and turning to his wife. "Hey. I resent that. I'll have you know I'm the perfect gentleman."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that." She turns to Veronica then, holding out her hand for her to shake. "Hi, I'm Sarah, Tim's wife. Nice to meet you, Veronica."

"Likewise," Veronica responds, shaking the woman's hand.

"I've been wondering when Mouth here was gonna get around to introducing you." Sarah glances toward Logan with a smile, before leaning in slightly. "Of course, that's fighter pilots for you. All brains when it comes to flying, but sadly lacking when it comes to those basic life skills. Sometimes I wonder how they manage without us all those months at sea."

"Hey!" exclaim Logan and Chaos simultaneously, looking indignant.

Sarah grins, leaning in closer, lowering her voice so the men can't hear, "But of course, the sex is amazing, am I right?"

Veronica laughs at that, the tension flowing from her body. Maybe getting to know Chaos' wife wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You're right," she responds with a wide grin, glancing at Logan who is watching them with suspicion. "It _is_ amazing."

"What's amazing?" he asks.

"Nothing," she says quickly.

Logan frowns, opening his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by the announcement that they must take their seats.

"Don't worry," says Chaos, as Logan takes Veronica's arm and begins leading her toward the dining hall. "I checked out the seating chart already. You guys are sitting opposite us at table four."

The tables are arranged in long rows, with a 'head table' at one end, raised up on a small platform. Each one is adorned with an elaborate array of shiny cutlery, wine glasses, water glasses and other tableware. It reminds Veronica of something out of a Harry Potter movie. Logan finds their seats and when it is announced they can sit, he pulls out her chair for her, then takes the seat to her left.

"Okay," he says quietly, leaning in. "So the basic rules of the dining-in night: One, the person sitting to your left is responsible for finding you before the meal, escorting you to your seat and essentially being your companion for the evening. In this case, that's me, but if you were here on your own, it might be someone you don't even know. Number two, you don't start eating until the Vice-President of the mess deems the food acceptable." He nods towards the small stage. "He sits with the Execs—the high-ups—up there."

"Wow, okay." Veronica's eyebrows rise, taking in the information.

"Number three, whatever you do, don't let anyone steal your name placard." He nods towards the small piece of card proclaiming her name in swirly font. He picks it up, along with his own, and shoves both in his pocket. "Keep it in a safe place. If someone else gets it, you'll be fined at the end of the meal."

"Seriously? What kind of fine?"

Logan shrugs. "Could be anything from paying cash, buying a bottle of port for the table, to having to tell a joke, or even do push-ups."

"Okay…"

"Number four, unless you're told otherwise, you're not allowed to leave the table during the meal. Not even to use the bathroom. Some dinners will have a designated 'bathroom break' in the middle, but if you get up at any other time, you'll be fined. Also, you may come back to find your chair and all your cutlery gone."

"Seriously… fines? Stealing cutlery? Is this the US Navy or preschool?"

"Old traditions die hard, I guess." One side of his mouth pulls up in a smirk. "Number five, at the end of the meal, the port will be passed around. The bottle cannot leave the table. But don't worry about that—it'll be my responsibility to pour yours anyway."

"Ah, the chivalry."

It's supposed to be a joke, but Veronica's getting nervous now. So many rules to remember… what if she forgets one? What if she makes a complete _faux-pas_ and embarrasses herself? Logan reaches over and takes her hand.

"It'll be fine, I promise," he says reassuringly. "I'll make sure you don't do anything wrong."

"How do you remember all this stuff, all these rules?" she asks. "It's like a whole other world in here."

"Lots of practice and discipline," pipes up Chaos from across the table. He's sitting directly opposite Veronica, while Sarah is across from Logan. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. It sounds a lot more complicated than it is. Just follow our lead and you'll be fine."

"I hope so."

Chaos is right, the rules actually start making sense once the meal commences and Veronica begins to get more comfortable. Conversation flows easily and she finds herself hitting it off with the other couple, particularly Sarah, who is warm and funny and seems to share a similar sense of humour. Of course, the whole evening is made even better by the amazing food: smoked salmon salad, filet mignon with gratin potatoes and vegetables, followed up with a rich chocolate mousse. It's the best meal she's eaten in a long time.

After all the plates have been cleared, it's time for the toasts. As Logan said it would be, a bottle of port is slid along the table, poured by tilting it and angling each glass so that the bottle itself never leaves the cloth. Logan pours a glass for her and passes the bottle along, before filling his own glass with the non-alcoholic alternative that follows behind. Achievements are announced and awards are given out, followed by an address from the guest speaker, and then a round of toasts, before the dinner is officially declared over.

"See, that wasn't so bad, right?" Logan says, as he escorts her out of the dining hall and into the bar area.

Veronica stops, turning to him. "Yeah, okay. You were right."

He grins. "So, you're having fun, then?"

"Yes, I'm having fun," she says, looping her arms around his neck and rising up on tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "Go on, you can say it: I told you so."

He looks affronted, sliding his arms around her waist. "I would never."

"Yeah, yeah… of course not."

"Before you two lovebirds get all hot and heavy, may I suggest drinks out on the veranda?" Chaos appears beside them, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

"And for the 'designated drivers' among us, a softer alternative," adds Sarah, carrying two more glasses and a bottle of sparkling grape juice.

"You wanna?" Logan turns back to Veronica.

She shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

"And then this one, right here, had the nerve to hit on me… in front of everyone." Sarah laughed, tilting her glass toward Logan. "He didn't even put together that I was dating his best friend."

"In my defence," Logan holds up his hands, "he hadn't even shown me a picture of you yet. How was I to know you were the girl who had him tied up in knots?"

"You could have waited for an introduction first," countered Chaos.

Logan shrugged. "Yeah, that would have been the sensible option… but I'd just broken up with Penny. I was lonely and needy." He turns to Veronica. "You should have seen me; I was a basket case. It wasn't pretty."

Veronica frowns, feeling a twinge of jealousy at the mention of another woman in his life. "Who's Penny?"

Logan hesitates. "Oh, uh, she was… we dated when I lived in Texas."

"Oh…"

She doesn't know what to say to that. She has no right to be jealous, she knows that, but she's been drinking and isn't really thinking all that straight. She takes large sip of her wine, quashing those thoughts, determined not to let them affect her as she returns to what she had been about to say before the mention of this Penny girl.

"Hmm, I'm sensing a pattern here," she muses softly.

"Huh?" Logan turns to her with a quizzical look.

"You mistaking off-limits girls for ones you can hit on," she says. "Remember back in high school when you were drunk at that party sophomore year and you thought I was Lilly?" She looks back to Chaos and Sarah. "He was all over me. Pulled me into his lap, tried to kiss me, then started waxing poetic about his feelings. I was dating his best friend at the time... who was also Lilly's brother."

"Hey, what is this, pick on Logan day?"

"Aww, no, _sweetie_." She pats his leg comfortingly. "Of course not."

Logan raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips as he leans in, says softly, "Oh, so we're back to pet names now, are we, _baby_?"

At the tone of his voice, she shivers, thoughts of that night last week coming back to her. She pushes them aside, shaking her head and saying airily, "Only in the sarcastic sense, _honeybunch_."

' _Honeybunch_?' Logan mouths incredulously, before grinning and leaning in for a kiss.

"Hey, Mouth," Chaos cuts in, interrupting the moment. "You tell Veronica how you got that scar?"

"Scar?" she asks curiously, trying to recall a mental catalogue of all the scars on his body.

It's kind of sad that her boyfriend has so many scars, she has to ask which one he's referring to.

"The one here, on my calf." He rubs the spot over his uniform trousers.

"Oh, yes." Of course, she's seen it, has recognised that it's a new one since they were together all those years ago, but she assumed it happened pre-Navy and didn't want to bring up bad memories by asking about it. "So, what happened?"

As Chaos launches into the story of how Logan got caught up in a convenience store robbery in Pensacola a few years ago, and was knifed in the thigh as he protected a young boy from harm, Veronica can't help but watch Logan intently, a wave of emotion rising in her chest. He's looking down at his hands, not making eye contact with her, as if he's embarrassed by the praise and attention as Chaos proclaims him a hero. He's changed so much in the last few years, grown from the messed up teenager who made her life hell and arranged bum fights for money, to this mature, respectable man, who would risk his life for others.

With a warm smile, she reaches out and places her hand over his, turning his palm up and linking their fingers. He looks up, returns the smile and nods when she leans close to his ear and whispers, "I always knew you were a hero."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Apologies for the lack of update on Wednesday - I was out in the field from Tuesday to Friday last week and couldn't update the story, but I've decided to post the new chapter today instead :).

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

It's three days before she works up the courage to ask him.

Logan finishes his shift at the base early Monday afternoon and since Veronica has to work late, instead of going back to the apartment, he comes by the office to see her, armed with take-out from Mama Leone's.

"Man, that was good," Logan proclaims, pushing his empty plate further onto her desk and leaning back in his chair, fingers linked across his stomach. "Six months without Mama Leone's was way too long."

Veronica frowns slightly. "Haven't you been living all over the place? As in nowhere near Mama Leone's?"

Logan shrugs. "Well, yeah, but I've spent more time in Neptune over the last year or two. I got used to it again"

Veronica puts down her fork and settles back in her own chair on the other side of the desk. She studies Logan for a moment, before taking the plunge.

"So, uh, this Penny girl…"

He nods, his eyebrows rising.

"Ah, I was wondering when you were gonna ask me about her," he says. "In fact, I'm surprised it took you this long."

"I was trying to be adult and mature," she admits. "I didn't want to pry."

Logan smirks. "The curiosity must have been killing you."

"No," she denies quickly, then amends, "Well, maybe… just a little."

"What do you want to know?"

She shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Whatever you want to tell me."

Logan sits up, leans forward a perceptive smile on his lips. "Come on, Veronica, you can do better than that." He gestures with his hands. "Hit me."

She sighs. "Okay, fine. How long were you together?"

Logan's eyes flick to the ceiling as he thinks. "'Bout a year, give or take. I was in Texas for 18 months, we met a few months in, broke up a few weeks before I was assigned to Lemoore."

"Did—" She struggles with the next part. "Did you love her?"

He looks at her seriously for a moment, as if trying to gauge her reaction. She keeps her expression as stoic as she can, even though her heart is racing.

"I thought maybe I could, eventually," he says. "She was fun, didn't take life too seriously. It was nice, uncomplicated. Until it wasn't."

"What happened?" She should probably leave it alone; maybe she doesn't even want to know, but the question just slips out.

Logan sighs, slumping back in the chair again as he rubs the back of his neck. "She had more baggage than she let on."

"Baggage, as in…?"

"As in an ex-husband who wasn't as 'ex' as she'd led me to believe," he admits. "She told me they were divorced, but apparently it was more of a 'trial separation' thing. After almost a year together, he looked her up, and she left me, went running back to him."

"Shit, Logan." Veronica leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk, as she says sincerely, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well… it's in the past. I moved on."

"Still…that was a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah." He shrugs. "Guess it was."

She gets up, makes her way around the desk and perches on the edge, sitting in front of him. Logan sits up, shifts his chair forward so he can rest his hands on her waist. She reaches out, runs her fingers through his short hair.

"Hey," he murmurs, looking up at her, "you don't happen to have any husbands—ex or otherwise—out there, do you?"

She smiles, shakes her head. "No, I do not."

"Good."

He rises from the chair, one hand moving from her waist and cupping the back of her neck as he pulls her into a kiss, while the other hands drifts down, curving around her bottom. She's about to deepen the kiss when a knock on the door pulls her out of her Logan-induced haze. She looks up to find an awkward-looking Weevil standing in the office doorway.

"Hey, V." His eyes flick to Logan and he nods. "Opie."

"Weevs," Logan returns with a tight smile.

"Uh, your pops in? I gotta talk to him about my case."

Veronica shakes her head. "Sorry, Weevil, he left about an hour ago. Anything I can help with?"

Weevil's eyes flick between her and Logan, eyebrow rising at their compromising position, before he shakes his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll catch him tomorrow."

"Not long until the court date now, huh?" she says.

Weevil shrugs. "Couple more weeks. Not that it'll do much good; I'm a goner either way."

"I think you underestimate my father's expertise," Veronica counters. "I wouldn't be surprised if you get a positive outcome."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Yeah, well, we'll see." He turns to leave. "See you around, V."

"Say hello to Jade and Valentina for me."

"Sure. Will do." Weevil's smile doesn't reach his eyes as he turns, saunters out of the office.

"Well, that was sufficiently awkward," Logan muses, tightening his arms around her waist when she turns back to him.

* * *

"Okay," murmurs Logan from behind her. "What you wanna do is hold it like this."

He positions her hand on the small .38 Special, his chest pressed against her back, legs braced against the back of hers. It's a bright Saturday afternoon and Logan, determined to follow through on his previous promise to teach her how to shoot, has taken her to the gun range.

"Keep your knees bent slightly, it'll help absorb the shock from the recoil. You need to stay relaxed," he says. His free hand comes around her waist, angling her forward slightly. "If you keep your weight over your toes, it'll help you to balance."

Veronica frowns, the words familiar. "You know, Weevil told me almost exactly the same thing a few months ago."

"Weevil?" He sounds surprised. "When were you and Weevil discussing the finer points of shooting a handgun?"

She shrugs. "When I came here a while ago, when you were away. He saw me, gave me some pointers."

"Sounds like he knows his stuff," he says. "Though can't say I'm surprised."

"Guess he does."

"So, you ready?"

She nods, though there's a curl of apprehension in her stomach. She's still not entirely comfortable with owning a gun, let alone having to fire it.

"Okay, so, you line up the shot, like this." He tilts her head slightly, moves her arm into position. "Look straight down the barrel at your target…."

His thumb guides hers on the weapon and Veronica shivers in response to his proximity. Their position, with him plastered against her back, is strangely intimate.

"Remember to keep your knees bent and your weight forward." His voice is soft, almost sensual, and she can feel his warm breath against her ear. "And when you're ready, pull the trigger."

His hand shifts on the gun, index finger sliding over hers, ready when she is. Except, nothing happens, she can't bring herself to do it, memories of the last time she had to fire it flashing through her mind.

"You okay?" he asks gently.

Veronica swallows. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine… just, gimme a sec."

She squares her shoulders, focusing her concentration on the target before her. After a moment, she feels Logan begin to exert pressure on the trigger, and she lets him, taking a deep breath and copying his movement.

"Get ready for the recoil," he murmurs. "I've got you."

She resists the urge to squeeze her eyes tightly shut as together they pull the trigger back all the way, the power of the shot causing her to stumble back against Logan.

"Hey, great job," he says warmly. "Try it again."

With his support, she fires again, then again, until she's used the whole round. When she checks the target, she's surprised to find that not only did she hit it each time, but two of the shots are close to the heart and two hit the head. She grins. Logan wasn't bragging before, he's _good_.

"See, told you you could do it," he says, shooting her a grin as he comes to stand beside her. "Wanna try it on your own this time?"

Veronica shakes her head. "Maybe in a minute. Why don't you take the next round?"

"Sure."

He changes the target sheet, then reaches for her gun and loads it expertly. Veronica takes a step back and watches as he adjusts his stance. He looks so at ease, so confident, and she wonders exactly how much experience he really does have with firearms. He shoots four times, one after the other, barely a pause in between, and when the target comes rolling back, her eyes widen when she sees four perfect shots to the centre of the head.

"Wow," she murmurs in awe. "That's amazing."

Logan shrugs, changing the sheet again. "Lots of practice."

"Right." She just hopes it was practice on inanimate objects and not anything living.

He loads the gun again and holds it out to her. "Your turn."

* * *

Mid-September arrives, along with Weevil's court date. It's sweltering hot and particularly muggy for the time of year and Veronica is relieved to step inside the cool Mars Investigations office after the verdict comes in and he's found not guilty. As she watches everyone around her celebrating and congratulating Weevil, Veronica pulls out her cell phone, stepping into the small kitchen area as she presses the call button.

"Lieutenant Echolls." He sounds distracted, but the sound of his voice makes her smile regardless.

"Hey, it's Veronica."

"Hey." The warmth in his tone is unmistakable. "What's up? How did it go?"

"Weevil's been cleared of all charges," she tells him. "He's a free man."

There's a low whistle.

"Never thought I'd be glad to hear that," he jokes. "Tell him congrats."

"Will do," she says. "So, you think you'll make it back for the celebrations?"

There's a pause before, "Uh, I don't think so, I've still got some things to finish up here."

"You sure?" She can't deny the slight feeling of disappointment at his words.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a late one."

"Okay." She nods. "Well, we'll be at the office if you're back early and want to swing by."

"Okay, cool." He seems distracted again, and she can hear the rustle of papers in the background.

"You sound busy; I'll let you go," she says. "See you later."

"See you tonight, Veronica."

She pockets the phone, forcing a smile as she heads back into the main office space. Sure, Logan isn't exactly friends with the group of people milling about the room, but it would have been nice to have him here to celebrate with them all the same.

As Veronica snuggles up beside Logan in bed that night, as she kisses him and he holds her close, she rethinks her decision not to tell him about her new case. Despite the whole 'no cases in the bedroom' rule she's enforced, it feels like she's keeping it from him by not mentioning it.

"I got a new case today," she says softly, tracing his chest with her fingers, as his do the same along her arm.

If he's surprised she's mentioning it, he doesn't show it. "Oh, yeah?"

She nods against his side. "They asked for me personally. Seems Petra Landros made a referral."

"Well, aren't you Miss Hot Shot PI?" The words should be sarcastic, but his tone implies admiration. "What kind of case?"

"The client is some kind of claims adjuster for an insurance company, but the case itself…" She winces. "It's pretty ugly—I'd rather not go into it now, you know, in bed."

His fingers still and his chin lifts from where it's been resting on the crown of her head. "Ah, it's one of _those_ cases."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You know, I don't know how you handle them," he murmurs, arm tightening around her, fingers starting up their swirly pattern on her skin again. "I'm not sure I could do it, and I haven't even…"

"Yeah…"

To be honest, Veronica's had way too many of _those_ cases before. Rape, murder, violation of women. For the most part, she's able to numb herself to the emotions involved and slip into 'work mode', but they still hit close to home nonetheless.

"You know, this is why I said no cases in the bedroom," she says. "I'd rather not think about the gruesome details when we're alone together."

"Well, I might have a way to take your mind off them."

Veronica smiles, shifting in his arms and hooking one leg over his so she can look up at him. "And what, pray tell, might that be."

He smiles, his expression warm, gaze soft and tender. His hand comes up, slides along her cheek, thumb brushing her skin as he lowers his forehead to hers.

"Something like this," he murmurs, licking his lips before kissing her gently.

She returns the kiss, smiling against his mouth, before pulling back just a hint. "I definitely approve."

"I thought you might."

His lips find hers again and he gently urges her onto her back, settling over her. He makes love to her tenderly, taking his time, rocking into her slowly. As much as Veronica loves their heated, passion-filled encounters, there's something to be said for the serene calmness that flows through her when they come together like this.

* * *

Logan stares at his laptop screen as he sits at Veronica's kitchen counter, bagel in hand, early Sunday morning a week-and-a-half later. The words at the bottom of the screen are tricky to read, let alone say, even with the vocal demonstration from the Arabic woman on-screen, but he's starting getting the hang of it.

" _Motasharefon bema'refatek_ ," says the voice through the speakers. "Nice to meet you, masculine. _Motasharefon bema'refatek."_

 _"_ _Mota-share…fon bema'ref…atek."_ He tries them out.

" _Sabah al khayr_. Good morning. _Masa'a al khayr_. Good evening."

" _Sabah al khayr,_ " comes Veronica's voice from behind him.

He tries not to jump as he turns, giving her a sheepish grins, shutting the laptop and replying, " _Sabah an noor_."

The look on her face is unreadable, and he's not sure what to make of it. He flicks his eyes over her hair—pinned back into a low ponytail, the ends draped over one shoulder—then her outfit, which is… completely un-Veronica-like: a pink, flowery skirt and white top, and says, "Aren't you wholesome this morning?"

"Gotta look good for Jesus," she quips, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He frowns. _Jesus_? Oh, that's right; she's off to that church thing this morning—something for her new case.

 _Well, there goes our day together  
_

"It's not even eight," she says, sounding incredulous. "You've been up, out for bagels, and learning a new language with the sunrise? Who are you and where's my boyfriend?"

Pushing down the urge to tell her that this early-morning routine has been his norm for a few years now so maybe she shouldn't keep comparing him to his teenage self, he makes a light joke.

"I'm practicing for when you finally get your way about that puppy you keep going on about," he says. "We both know who's going to be rolling out of bed and taking it out to do its business."

The first few weeks after he came back from deployment, there had been no mention of puppies at all, but lately she's been dropping hints about how much she misses Backup and would love a new dog to care for. Logan's not sure it's a good idea, considering how busy they both are, and he's been resisting so far, but God knows Veronica can be persuasive when she wants something, so he's been preparing for his inevitable cave-in.

He slides off the stool and grabs the remaining bagels from the bread box, holding the bag up for her to see. "I got blueberry, sesame, and plain. Pick your poison."

"Three years I lived in New York—three!" she says, putting on a pretty good Yiddish accent. It kind of freaks him out how easily she slips into it. "I _know_ from bagels, _bubeleh_. And now you want I should eat this Trader Joe's _chazzerei_?"

 _Oh, just pick one, smartass_. The amused retort is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back with a smirk, picking out one of the sesame bagels, slicing it and dropping it into the toaster.

"Sesame, it is. Extra schmear."

He turns to her, watching as she hops up onto the stool he was previously sitting on. It all feels very domestic this morning, like they're actually a regular couple or something. He got up, went running along Dog Beach, picked up the fresh bagels on his way home, and now he's making breakfast for Veronica, who is dressed for church.

 _Who would have thought it, huh?_

"So, what's with the Arabic?" She asks, opening his laptop again. He resists the urge to slide it from her grasp, unsure how she's going to react. "You didn't experience any reprogramming in the Middle East that you haven't shared with me? Any well-worn rugs I should avoid giving to Goodwill?"

He narrows his eyes, keeping his face as straight as he can while he pours them each a cup of coffee and then adding a generous schmear to her bagel.

"I harbour no feelings that should concern you or my native land, to which I remain fully loyal," he says seriously. "But Allah willing, the Great Satan Hulu Plus will soon pay the price for blocking season five of Archer in Iraq." She shoots him a confused look, to which he grins, giving a shrug. "I'm just messing around with it. My CO said I should think about taking some classes. Might be useful, you know?"

Veronica frowns at that and he wonders what's going on in her head. When she speaks, there's a slight bite to her tone.

"That's funny. I didn't think they spoke a lot of Arabic in San Diego."

 _Shit_ , he thinks. _Of course._ Learning to speak Arabic implies he'll be spending time in an area of the world where it's spoken as standard.

"You don't order a lot of shawarma, do you?" He's quick to deflect with humour. His go-to response. "I need my pita crusty but still moist inside; meat shaved thin; no eggplant. Plenty of _skhug_ and fresh-cut lemons on the side." He gives a shrug. "Tough to pantomime all that."

She's silent, just looks down at the coffee mug in her hands, and Logan curses internally. He studies her carefully while she seems to debate something in her head. She opens her mouth to speak, then promptly closes it, instead lifting the mug to her lips.

"Thanks," she says, taking a sip.

"Al'afw." He smiles, though it's just slightly forced this time.

As Veronica munches on her bagel, Logan reaches for his coffee mug and the rest of his own bagel and they eat in silence for a few moments, Logan watching Veronica as he leans against the counter, and Veronica switching her attention between him and the Arabic woman on his laptop screen. It doesn't take long for the silence to get to him and for Logan to break.

"Come on, out with it."

She turns innocent eyes to him. "Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you." Before she can reply he adds, "And don't tell me it's nothing—it's written all over your face."

She hesitates, chewing slowly on her bagel. She swallows.

"It's just… you only just got back," she says, seeming to struggle with what she wants to say. "I thought we were focusing on the here and now, making the most of the next year and a half… but if you're learning Arabic, then that means you're planning to use it at some point, presumably in the relatively near future, and _that_ means…"

 _I'll be going away again_ , he finishes silently.

"Hey," he says putting down his coffee and walking over to her, turning her on the stool so she's facing him fully. "I _am_ focused on the here and now. Like I said, I'm just trying it out, nothing serious."

"Yeah…" She looks dubious.

"Look." He captures a strand of her hair between his finger and thumb, rubbing it softly. "I do want to make the most of it, here with you, but the reality is that I will be deploying again at some point, and it _is_ likely to be in that area of the world. Being able to speak the language could come in handy, and there's no point in putting off learning it until it's too late."

He looks down at her, watching her take that in with a slow nod. With a sigh she leans forward, resting her head on his chest, her arms slipping around his waist. He steps closer, between her legs, and winds his arms around her back.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't want to—"

"No." She shakes her head against his chest, then straightens up so she can look him in the eye. "It's okay. You don't have to apologise—it's just a bit of a surprise… you know, walking in on you speaking Arabic, of all things."

Logan tries to picture it from her point of view. In his mind, it seems perfectly logical that he might try to learn the language. He knows a few guys on the ship who speak it, and it makes sense for him to be able to do the same. But for a civilian, for someone like Veronica—a PI-turned lawyer-turned PI again—it must seem a really strange thing to be doing.

"Yeah, I see your point." He nods. "From now on, I'll warn you about these things."

"You don't have to do that," she says. "It's just gonna take a bit of time for all this Navy stuff to become more normal to me, that's all."

She smiles then, leaning up to kiss him. He gets the feeling she meant it to be chaste, but he can't help deepening it, tightening his arms around her. When he pulls back, her breathing is uneven and her cheeks are flushed. She looks gorgeous, despite the conservative clothing.

"Hey, when do you have to leave for church?" he asks, flashing her a wicked smile. "Think we have time for a quickie?"

He laughs when she tuts at him, swatting his arm and slipping off the barstool.

* * *

After pulling late nights earlier in the week, Logan manages to wrangle a half-day on Thursday. Veronica's been busy with her case and they've barely seen each other all week, so he joins her in midtown Neptune for the announcement of Weevil's lawsuit against the Sheriff's Department.

As they stand together in the cramped lobby of the office building, Logan notices Veronica observing Weevs' lawyer, Lisa Choi, thoughtfully. Her expression is almost wistful and he wonders if she's thinking about her own missed opportunities in the legal profession.

"When we lose faith in our officers of the law, it harms all of us," Lisa says forcefully. "It cripples our criminal justice system. It threatens the most vulnerable parts of our community. It allows money and power to subvert justice."

Logan bites back a chuckle at that, leaning in to whisper in Veronica's ear, "I miss money and power."

Her mouth twitches, like she wants to laugh, but she presses her lips together, focusing on the lawyer again. When Lisa finishes her speech and the topic turns to questions, Veronica turns to him, nodding toward the door. He returns the nod and they head out onto the sidewalk. It's still unseasonably hot out, despite it being almost October, the sun glaringly bright, though this heat is nothing compared with the desert extremes of the Middle East.

"Well, that was romantic," he comments, watching her fumble in her bag for something.

She pulls out her sunglasses and slides them onto her face as she looks up at him with a smirk.

"Why, darling, what could be more romantic than uncovering systemic corruption through a gruelling process of investigations, subpoenas, and litigation?" She tilts her head at him. "But, I guess, if you want, we could do something more, you know, light and fun?"

 _Yes, please_ , he thinks. _I've missed you this week._

Instead, he fakes a double-take, wiggling a finger in his ear as if to clear it out. "I don't understand, what is this 'fun' and how do you do it?"

"I've heard some people do it two days a week." She plays along, her tone light and joking. "Maybe we could take a drive up the coast? Have dinner later tonight?"

"Dinner, like, at the same place, at the same time?" He raises an eyebrow, only half-joking now. "Now that sounds suspiciously date-like."

"Yeah?"

She smiles, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips softly. He's very tempted to grab her and hold her there, but they're in the middle of the street, in the middle of the afternoon.

She pulls back. "Play your cards right, maybe I'll take you home after."

 _Oh, fuck, yeah._ He's about to voice that enthusiastic response when her phone rings, interrupting the moment.

"Let me take this real quick, okay?" She answers the phone, holding up one finger to him.

Logan exhales heavily, shoving a hand in his pocket as she listens intently for a moment, then shifts the phone and moves a few steps away. He watches her closely as she speaks on the phone, her body stiffening, her posture all business.

 _Great, duty calls. There goes that romantic date tonight._

He keeps his eyes on her as she hangs up and glances toward the group of people inside the building as she makes her way back over to him. Despite the sunglasses covering her eyes, he can almost guarantee her expression holds apologies and regret.

Logan forces a smile as she approaches him, her mouth opening to speak. He beats her to it.

"Our plans just got cancelled, didn't they?"

She bites her lip, slipping off her sunglasses so she can look up at him properly. He was right. It's written all over her face.

"Logan, I'm sor—" She stops, seemingly reconsidering something as she studies him. "Actually, you know what? It can wait until tomorrow."

"Really?" He's surprised, it's not like her to blow off a case to have some 'fun'.

She nods, reaching for his hand, linking their fingers. Logan squeezes gently. "Yes, really. We've hardly seen each other all week, and you have the afternoon off. Let's make the most of it."

"Okay." Logan grins. "I'm in."

* * *

"This is nice," muses Veronica, as she and Logan walk barefoot across the warm sand later that evening.

"It is," Logan agrees, tightening his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "See, aren't you glad you changed your mind?"

As she suggested earlier, they took a drive down the coast and stopped for dinner at a quaint, beach-front restaurant just a few miles outside of San Diego. It's strange, actually. Not the food, of course, that's excellent; no, it's the occasion that seems strange: it's their first real, romantic date in months. Not being the traditional 'date night' type of people, it isn't often they actually do things properly like this, but Veronica is very glad she decided to take some time and spend the rest of the day with Logan.

"Yes, actually, I am." She nods. "I'm sorry, I know we haven't seen each other much this week… you know how I get when I'm on a case. I can't focus on anything else."

"I know." She feels his lips pressing against the crown of her head. "I get it, I do. But you're right, this _is_ nice. Any time I get to spend alone with you is nice…" He lowers his mouth to her ear. "More than nice."

The suggestiveness of his tone, along with the warm breath tickling her neck, makes her shiver, ripples down her spine. She stops, stepping in front of him, sliding her hands up over his chest and around his neck as she rises up to kiss him.

"Definitely," she murmurs into his mouth.

His arms constrict around her, pulling her up against his chest as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping inside, tangling with hers. She can't stop the moan of pleasure when she feels his arousal against her stomach. Tightening her grip on him, she presses herself even closer, shuddering as his hands flatten on her back, sliding up and down. It's just getting even more heated when something startlingly cold and wet hits her feet and she gasps, stumbling back in shock and looking down at the waves lapping at their ankles.

"Well, shit." Logan lets out a breathless chuckle.

Veronica grins. "Guess that was a much-needed dose of cold water."

"Come on." He holds his hand out to her. "Let's move further up the beach."

She takes it, letting him lead her a little further from the water. The sun is beginning to set now, dowsing the horizon with a pinkish-orange glow. It would make the perfect picture.

"Hang on a sec," she says, reaching into her bag for her camera. "I wanna get a couple of photos."

Logan nods, standing there for a moment while she starts snapping pictures of the gorgeous scenery. _You don't get sunsets and beaches like this in New York._ After a few moments, he seems to get bored and starts wandering along the shoreline. Veronica observes him for a moment, before lifting her camera and taking a few shots of him. He stops, turning to face the water, looking pensive and she smiles as she snaps yet another photo of him, the glow of the sun creating the perfect shadows across his profile.

He's still deep in thought when she approaches him, and doesn't seem to notice her. The tide is coming in faster now and she grins when a slightly larger wave rolls in. Tucking the camera back in her bag, she leans down, scoops up some of the cold salt water and splashes him.

"Shit!" He jumps back in shock, then shakes his head witheringly when he sees her.

She laughs. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

He purses his lips, eyes narrowed, mischievous expression in his eyes. "I'm gonna get you for that."

"Just you try."

She starts backing away, breaking into a run when he lunges for her. He's too fast though and, unlike him, she's not used to running on sand, so it's only a few seconds before he catches up with her and grabs her around the waist from behind, lifting her up and striding over to the water.

"No, Logan, stop." She wriggles in his hold as he starts lowering her toward the water. "Please."

"Why should I?" he teases, lifting her again. "You got me wet, now it's my turn."

He kicks at the water with his foot, sending a spray of droplets up over her bare legs. She hisses. "Fuck, that's cold."

He laughs. "I know."

"Come on, please," she begs when he expertly hoists her up into his arms, bridal-style, and marches further into the water.

She looks up at his face to find determination written all over it. He's really going to do this. _Shit_. Thinking quickly, she loops one arm around his neck so she can lean in close to his ear.

"You really don't have to do this," she says softly. "You've already got me wet."

It takes only a second to realise what a stupid move she's just made. It's the second in which he straightens up in surprise, losing his concentration. Time seems to move in slow-motion as she feels herself falling.

"Shit, Veronica!"

Logan makes a grab for her, but he only manages to catch hold of her bag. Veronica squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling in a sharp gasp and a cry as she hits the freezing cold water. The shock is like pins and needles, and Veronica splutters when she resurfaces, eyes narrowing with anger _._

 _I'm gonna kill him._

Of course, when she sees his expression, she can't be mad. He's looking at her sheepishly, bottom lip jutting out in a guilty pout. He's holding her bag, containing her camera and all the other important equipment that really shouldn't get wet, high above the water.

"Hey, at least I rescued your bag."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

On Saturday morning two days later, Logan is left to his own devices when Veronica heads into the office to catch up on some work. He spends the morning surfing with Dick, then heads downtown to see if she's free for lunch.

"Logan. Hey."

Mac looks up from one of the five computer monitors on her desk, giving him a small smile when he taps on the door and steps inside Mars Investigations.

"Ah, so it's back to Logan now, is it?" he says. "Just when I was growing fond of 'Not-Piz'."

Mac has the decency to look embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry about that. It was just a joke, you know."

"So Veronica tells me," he says, as he moves inside the room, taking a seat on the sofa and making himself comfortable. "She's not around?"

Mac shakes her head. "Sorry. She stepped out; she's looking into a possible lead." She glances at the clock. "Should be back soon, though."

Logan nods. "That's okay. I'll wait."

"If you're sure." Mac shrugs, turning back to her laptop screen.

Silence falls across the office, the only sound being Mac's fingers tapping on the computer keyboard. Logan spends a moment looking around, taking in the high ceilings, the mahogany desks, the shadows spilling across the room, then picks up a real estate magazine that is laying haphazardly across the sofa and flicks through it lazily.

When he eventually gets bored, he snaps it shut and focuses his attention on Mac, still typing away. She looks serious and concentrated, but there's something else in her posture too: she looks tense, tired, her face pinched.

"Everything okay?" he asks, breaking the silence.

Mac looks up with a slight frown. "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"I dunno." He shrugs. "You look like something's bothering you."

"It's nothing," she dismisses quickly.

"Okay."

She bites her lip, thinking something over, before she sighs. "Okay, it's not nothing. It's…"

She levels him with a considering look.

"How much do you know about the Sinclairs?"

 _What_?

"Sinclairs? As in… _Madison_ Sinclair?" His stomach drops, memories of freshman year at Hearst coming back. "What kind of knowledge we talking here?"

"About me and the Sinclairs, specifically."

He frowns, slowly shaking his head. _What is she talking about?_

"What about you and the Sinclairs?"

Mac sighs, and it sounds an awful lot like relief. "She didn't tell you."

Logan is confused. "Who didn't tell me what?"

"Veronica."

His face scrunches up. She's lost him. "Why would Veronica tell me anything about you and the Sinclairs?"

Mac looks down. "I dunno, I just figured maybe you knew."

"Knew what? Mac, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." Mac exhales heavily. "Well, okay, here's the thing: back in high school, I asked Veronica to do some digging into my family, because I didn't feel I fit in with them, and she found out I'd been switched at birth."

"What?" Logan sits upright in the chair, barely able to comprehend her words. "Wait… you… I mean…you're saying that you and Madison Sinclair…?"

She nods. "Madison and I were born at the same hospital, one day apart. There was a mix-up. Her parents took _me_ home and my parents took her home."

"Seriously?" Logan blinks, trying to process that. "That's some messed up shit."

"Tell me about it." Mac lifts her eyebrows. "My biological parents are Charles and Ellen Sinclair, and Madison's are Sam and Natalie MacKenzie."

"No shit." Logan whistles softly. "And they never even realised?"

"Oh, they did, when we were four years old," she says. "Sued the hospital and everything, got a million dollars each out of the lawsuit, but in the end they decided not to switch us back. It'd been four years, after all. If I hadn't asked Veronica to look into it, I might never have found out."

"Geez…" he mutters, before a thought occurs to him. "Wait, does Madison know?"

Mac shrugs. "I have no idea. I don't think so."

Logan nods, thinking back over what she's just told him. He frowns. "You said you found this out in high school?" She nods. "So, what's causing the stress now?"

"Ah, see, that's the thing." Her mouth lifts to one side as she raises an eyebrow. "It appears Charles Sinclair is involved in Veronica's latest case. As in, he might be a potential suspect."

"Involved?" He frowns. "It's a rape case, right? Does that mean…?"

"I hope not," says Mac quickly. "All we know right now is that the victim was meeting her boyfriend at the Grand that night—her _married_ boyfriend—and my, uh, Charles Sinclair may have been said boyfriend."

"Well, fuck." Logan sinks back into the sofa cushions, taking that in. He looks to Mac with concern. "Are you all right?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, it's not like he's my _father_ , you know, not really. I barely even know him. It's just…"

"Oh, I get it, believe me," Logan says. "I'm the poster child for fucked-up fathers."

"Yeah."

"Well, I hope for your sake he's not involved in this."

"Me too," she agrees. "I mean, he's not the greatest human being alive, but we do share DNA."

"I know the feeling." His thoughts are dangerously close to turning to his father, so he scrambles to steer the conversation in a different direction. "You thought I knew, that Veronica had told me… why?"

Mac looks down, gives a shrug. "I dunno. You guys were pretty tight back then. I figured you probably shared a lot of stuff."

 _Yeah, right. She only ever told me what she absolutely had to._

He frowns. "You know she wouldn't do that, right? She wouldn't gossip about your private life."

Mac looks thoughtful for a moment. "No, I guess not."

"Hell, it was hard enough getting her to tell me stuff about _herself_ , let alone anyone else." He scoffs. "It was like drawing blood from a stone."

Mac snorts a chuckle at that. "You're not wrong."

Logan sits forward, pressing his palms together. "She's different now, though. More open."

She nods. "She is. She's grown up; we all have."

"Yeah." Logan looks down at his hands.

"I mean, look at you, Mr. Navy-man," she says, her tone light. "Off saving the world, one air-to-surface missile at a time."

Logan looks up to find her grinning at him. "Yeah, guess so."

* * *

"So, you and Mac seemed friendly this afternoon," Veronica comments that evening, reaching for a knife and chopping carrots for dinner.

"Yeah." Logan shrugs from his position beside her, where he's making a salad. "I guess."

"What'd you guys talk about?"

Logan frowns. "Does it matter?"

Veronica turns her head to look him, looking puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do you need to know?" He doesn't mean for it to come out snappy, but it does all the same. "Maybe it was a private conversation."

"Was it?"

"No," he says immediately, then thinks about it and amends, "I mean, I don't think so. But that's not the point."

She puts down the knife, turning to him fully, her eyes narrowing. "What _is_ the point?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"No." She shakes her head. "Tell me."

Logan sighs. "I'm just saying, you don't _have_ to know everything your friends talk about. They have every right not to tell you."

She huffs, looking offended. "Well, excuse me for being interested."

She picks up the knife again and goes back to chopping, with slightly more force than strictly necessary. Logan just watches her, salad forgotten for the moment.

He sighs. "You can be interested, but you also can't expect everyone to tell you everything about themselves."

"Fine. I won't."

"Fine." He turns back to the salad.

It's the first argument they've had—if you can even call it an argument—since he got home almost three months ago, and as stupid as it is, Logan can't help feeling a flicker of excitement, of anticipation, growing in response to it. It's almost like old times, when they would rile each other up so much that everything would eventually come to a head in an explosive fashion… and not necessarily in a bad way.

They stand together, side-by-side, chopping in silence, until Logan says quietly. "She told me about her and Madison."

"What?"

"Mac. She told me about the whole 'switched at birth' thing."

Something flickers in her expression, before she frowns. "Oh, so _now_ you're in share mode?"

Logan struggles not to roll his eyes as he carries his salad-filled chopping board over to the salad bowl. "Oh, just forget it."

"Hang on…" Veronica's tone is sharp. "She told you about Madison? About her real parents?"

"Yep." He pops the 'p', knowing it annoys her.

"So, I take it she also told you why it's bothering her."

"Ye _p_." He does it again.

"And _that_ means you know things about the case."

"Some, but not many," He faces her again. "Only that Charles Sinclair might be a rape suspect."

"Shit, Logan." Her expression is a mixture of anger and disappointment. "I didn't want you knowing the details."

Logan blinks, holding his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I didn't ask for any, okay? I just wanted to know if something was bothering her, and she told me."

He pauses, matching her pissed-off expression as the frustration—and anticipation—builds. He takes a step closer to her.

"I don't understand what the big deal is anyway; why does it matter if I know?" he asks. "Why are you so intent on shutting me out all the time? Maybe I could help."

Her jaw clenches. "I don't shut you out."

"Yeah, fucking right you don't," he retorts. "You did it all the time back at Hearst, and I thought maybe things were different now, but no, it's back to the same old Veronica. Miss Independent, keeping everyone at arm's length."

Veronica turns away for a moment, before snapping back around, bracing her hands on the counter behind her, knuckles going white from her grip on it. "Don't you fucking dare, Logan. You know that's not true; I'm fucking trying and you know it."

"Yeah?" he taunts, advancing on her, feeling a weird, twisting sort of pleasure from fighting with her like this again. "I thought maybe you were, but I guess not."

"Fuck you!" she spits, eyes shooting daggers at him.

He clenches his jaw, breathing heavily as he glares down at her. He can feel the knot of anticipation, of arousal forming in his stomach as his body reacts to her, and he can only give into it. He opens his mouth to counter, but no words come out. Instead, he swoops down and kisses her, eagerly, urgently. It takes a moment for her to respond, but when she does, it's like a switch has been flipped; her hands are everywhere, in his hair, clutching his shoulders, cupping his cheeks, pulling him closer. She jumps up, wrapping her legs around his hips, and he reacts quickly, hoisting her up onto the counter.

He pulls back, just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and to reach for hers as well. She unclasps her bra as he unfastens her jeans. Her hands come up to his chest, pushing him away with some force, and he stumbles back in confusion. For a moment, he thinks she's going to stop him, but then she's hopping off the counter, discarding her bra and pushing her jeans and underwear down, stepping out of them.

"Come on," she demands, reaching for his zipper and sliding it down, then tugging his pants over his hips. "Off."

They only make it halfway down his thighs before he grabs her again, urging her legs around his as he turns around, pushing her up against the wall. He reaches down, fumbles in his pocket for a condom, then doesn't hesitate in pushing into her. She's already wet—this must be turning her on as much as it is him—and she moans in satisfaction, pressing herself against him.

They don't speak as he thrusts into her, slowly but forcefully, making her feel every second of it. Her breaths are coming in short, sharp pants, in time with his movements, and she's clutching at his hair with one hand, twisting and tugging at whatever she can get hold of, as the other slides over his shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh.

God, this feels… fucking amazing. It's like old times—not the crappy, heartbreaking times, but the times when things were good, when the sex was fast and furious and incredible.

Veronica arms wrap tightly around his neck as she uses his shoulders for leverage, moving against him, twisting her hips until a low moan escapes her lips and he feels her inner muscles fluttering around him as she cries out. A wave of heat starts in his stomach and flows downwards, until he feels the tell-tale tightening, the rush of white-hot pleasure. He buries his head in her shoulder as he comes. Her hands cup his neck again, holding him to her as they catch their breath.

"Fuck. Me." she mutters in appreciation.

Logan can't help but chuckle throatily against her clammy skin. "Sorry, just did that."

She responds with short, breathless laugh, her fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck. He shivers under her touch.

They don't speak again for several long moments, until Veronica says quietly, "I'm sorry. I overreacted."

Logan lifts his head to look at her. "I did too."

She shakes her head. "It's my fault. I'm stressed over this case and I took it out on you."

He supports her with one hand as he reaches up to brush the hair out of her eyes. "And I baited, made things worse. On purpose."

At that, her eyebrows rise, her expression incredulous. "Seriously?"

He shrugs sheepishly. "Yeah. I was trying to get a rise out of you."

She makes a face. "Why?"

"I dunno… maybe 'cause arguing with you turns me on?"

"Oh my God…. seriously?" she repeats. "And here I thought we were doing things the grown-up way this time."

"We are," he says. "It's just, don't you remember what it used to be like? When we'd make each other so mad and we'd be yelling and screaming until we had nothing left. The make-up sex was out of this world."

"Hang on, let me get this straight." She frowns. "You picked a fight with me, on purpose, so you could have 'out of this world' make-up sex?"

He nods guiltily. "That's about the gist of it."

"Geez, you could have just said so." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I would have been more than willing."

"Really?"

"Yes. I remember the make-up sex too, you know." She grins. "It was fucking fantastic."

"That it was."

He returns her grin as he carries her to the bathroom so they can get cleaned up.

Later, when they're eating dinner, as Veronica shoots him wide smiles and heated looks every now and then, he still has the niggling feeling there really was something to their argument. Sure, he was being combative on purpose, but her reaction to him chatting with Mac in the office earlier had still rubbed him the wrong way and his initial reaction hadn't been an exaggeration.

* * *

Veronica is in the kitchen making pancakes, and while the act of making pancakes is not unusual in itself, what _is_ unusual is that she's doing it at ten a.m. on a Friday morning. With Logan.

It's been a slow week at the office, waiting for Charles Sinclair's DNA results to come back, and not even the pawn-shop owner feud she's been working on in the meantime has captured her attention. So when Logan informs her he has to do some late-night aircraft testing Thursday night, which means he doesn't have to be on base on Friday, she jumps at the chance to take a day off and spend it with him.

After making the most of not having to get up early, they finally dragged themselves out of bed a few minutes ago and Veronica set about collecting the ingredients for pancakes while Logan quickly fried some bacon. As she finishes mixing the batter, she's all too aware of Logan leaning against the counter, watching her intently.

"Let's do it."

His voice is sudden and unexpected in the peaceful quiet. She looks over to find him smiling at her with that little half-smirk she loves.

"Again?" She can't help returning the smile. "It's been ten minutes. I need some breakfast if you expect another performance like that."

It's true; their morning activities earlier had been… rather energetic, leaving her tired, yet extremely relaxed.

Logan's smirk widens. "Not that. Though, now you mention it, check back in with me on that front in just a minute."

He reaches for a piece of bacon and takes a bite.

"No," he says when he's swallowed. "Let's get a puppy."

 _What? He can't be serious… right?_

She stops mixing, turning to face him, her mouth dropping open as she stares uncomprehendingly at him.

He chuckles. "Huh. Veronica Mars, speechless. I'll have to write this one in my feelings journal."

She can't believe the words 'Let's get a puppy' just came out of his mouth.

"Are you serious? You're… I mean, it's a huge commitment, and…"

Sure, since she moved back to Neptune, she's missed having a dog around the house, especially in those six months Logan was away, but every time she's brought it up, Logan has been hesitant. She can understand why: they both work, they're both busy people, and they're only just finding their feet together. It wouldn't be practical.

"So what?" he counters. "So's everything worth doing."

 _And the surprises just keep on coming_ , she thinks. _Who is this guy and what has he done with the real Logan Echolls?_

"Come on," he says, his tone almost urgent. "You can keep doodling dog faces on every blank pad in this apartment, or we can just take the leap. Why not?"

Why not, indeed? For once, the counter response that would normally be on the tip of her tongue is nowhere to be found. He's looking at her intently, something in his expression, something… important, maybe?... and her mind goes blank.

Why not?

She grins, dropping the whisk in the bowl of pancake batter as she steps towards him, rising up on tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.

Logan chuckles against her lips, pulling back slightly so he can ask, "So, I take it that's a yes?"

Veronica grins, rubbing her nose against his playfully. "Yes."

"So…" He returns her grin, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "Ready for round two?"

She kisses him again, a combination of excitement and an emotion she's hesitant to identify just yet flowing through her. "God, yes."

She reaches for his hand and drags him back into the bedroom, where she proceeds to show him exactly how thankful she is.

Afterwards, they lie together, side-by-side, bedcovers pushed to the floor on one side of the bed. Veronica turns her head toward him.

"Are you really serious about this? About getting a dog?"

"Yes." His expression is serious as he looks back at her.

"But you've never had one before, what if you don't like it? And we're not even officially living together… maybe it's just too big a step?"

"Veronica." He turns onto his side, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Do you want a puppy?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then stop overthinking. Just go with it."

"But—"

She doesn't get any further because his lips are on hers, his arm sliding around her bare waist, tugging him against his naked body, and she can't bring herself to say no.

* * *

It's just after lunch when they arrive at the animal shelter and Logan finds himself studying Veronica much more than the puppies themselves as she makes her way past the enclosures, her expression softening as she stops to coo over the puppies. This is a side of Veronica he hasn't seen for a long time, not really since before Lilly died and she became hardened to the world. He's seen a similar look on her face when he's caught her doodling and dropping hints about getting a puppy over the last few weeks, the latest being two nights ago, when a documentary about dog rescue shelters was showing on the TV.

He hasn't admitted it, but he's been warming to the idea of getting a puppy, of sharing something that's _theirs_ , for a couple weeks now, but it was that look on her face during that documentary on Wednesday night that made up his mind.

He's ambling along the aisle, considering the different dogs, when Veronica stops suddenly and he almost crashes into her.

"This one."

Logan looks down at the puppy she's pointing to. It _is_ adorable: a tiny, black ball of fur. It's looking up at them both intently, head cocked to one side, big brown eyes staring up at them. He kneels down, looking at the puppy seriously, sizing her up. It lifts a paw, pressing it against the chain, as if to say hello. Its short tail starts wagging eagerly, and Logan just about falls in love.

"This is seriously threatening my hardboiled persona," says Veronica then, "because I have never wanted to squee so badly in my life."

He looks up to find her watching both him and the puppy, a soft smile on her face. He grins, then turns to look at the information flyer pinned to the enclosure, heart sinking just a little when he sees what it says.

"It says here she's going to be between 90 and 100 pounds. Where are we going to put her?"

"I lived in a two-bedroom with a territorial pit bull," she says. "I'm pretty sure we can make it work."

She crouches down beside him, slipping her fingers through the wire. Logan observes the puppy as it looks at Veronica consideringly, eyes wide and round, before its tongue darts out to lick one of her fingers. Veronica smiles happily, which makes him grin in return.

She looks at him with pleading eyes, and says softly. "This one."

Logan slides his arm around her waist, squeezing gently. "Okay. This one it is."

They fill out the paperwork and bundle the new puppy into the back of Veronica's SUV. As Veronica drives up the PCH, Logan can't help watching the dog in the rearview mirror. She's so tiny and young, and all this must be so scary and unfamiliar to her. He has no experience with dogs, other than hanging around Backup when he was a teenager; what if they aren't supposed to just sit on the backseat like that? What if he messes this up and feeds it chocolate or something?

 _Well, at least I know I'm not supposed to give it chocolate._

He tears his gaze away from the mirror, forcing himself not to panic over it, and glances over at Veronica. She looks pensive as she drives, a slight frown marring her face.

"What should we name her?" she asks then. "Athena? Joan of Arc? Christiane Amanpour?"

"Those seem a little… aspirational," he comments. He can't help turning his attention to the puppy again, who is now rolling around on her back, playing with a squeak toy. "I'm thinking something more like Doodlebug."

Veronica's nose scrunches up in distaste. "No way. The other dogs will tease her. How about Havoc? Or Mayhem?"

Logan suppresses a smirk, raising his eyebrow. "Is she a puppy or a supervillain? Sugar Cookie. That's my final offer."

By the time they get home, after stopping by Mars Investigations to show the new addition off, they're still no closer to deciding on a name.

* * *

The first few days, Logan struggles to adjust to having the new puppy around. She's eager, always on the move, slipping and sliding across the hardwood floors of Veronica's apartment, and he doesn't really know what to do with her. He knows Veronica has noticed his skittishness around their new pet, but so far, she hasn't said anything about it.

Until now, that is.

"You're not regretting it, are you?" she asks on Monday morning as she places a bowl of puppy food down on the floor, which the small dog scampers towards and starts eating noisily, then pours a cup of coffee for each of them.

"Regretting what?" Logan looks up from the newspaper spread out on the counter in front of him.

"The puppy."

He frowns, not looking up from the paper. How can she think that? Getting her was his idea.

"No, why?"

She shrugs, sliding one of the coffee mugs over to him. "You just don't seem very comfortable around her."

"She's adorable." He turns his attention toward Veronica. "But I've never had a dog before, Veronica. I have no idea what I'm doing with her."

"So, just ask," she says simply, taking a sip of coffee. "We're in this together, right?" He nods. "Anything you're not sure of, let me know."

"Okay." He nods again.

It's stupid, really. Of course he should ask her. Unlike him, she _does_ know what she's doing.

"Hmm." She doesn't look convinced. Her expression turns thoughtful. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've got some weird military pride thing going on right now, like you don't want to show any weakness."

"No," he denies feebly, trying not to wince.

"Yeah, okay." An amused smile plays on her lips. "So, we still don't have a name yet. We should really get on that."

Logan sighs. "I don't know, Veronica. You veto everything I come up with."

"I can't help it if none of them fit her," she says, glancing down at the dog. "You know, when I was a kid, all I wanted was a pony. Of course, I was never gonna get one, but she's the next best thing, don't you think?"

"Uh, sure." He's not sure how she got from pony to puppy, but okay.

"So, until we come up with a better name, she's gonna be my 'pony'."

 _Seriously_?

"Ok-ay…"

Her eyes narrow and she points a finger at him. "You mock, my friend, but I'll have you know, she's the culmination of a life-long dream."

"Right." He nods, looking down at the puppy—pony?—who has finished eating and is now looking up at him with a longing expression. Longing for what, he has no idea, but if she isn't just fucking adorable… "Well, I have to get going, but you and your pony have a lovely day together."

He bends down to pet the puppy, who eagerly licks his fingers. With a smile, he stands up, leaning over and giving Veronica a quick kiss.

"Bye."

* * *

"You're quiet tonight," comments Logan as they sit curled up together on the sofa on Wednesday evening, Pony—as she is now officially called—sprawled across their laps, fast asleep.

Veronica shrugs, running her fingers through the puppy's soft, silky fur, her attention focused on the movie playing on the TV.

"Just thinking."

"About me, I hope," he jokes, though Veronica struggles to smile in response.

Truth is, she _is_ thinking about him; well, more that she's thinking about the argument they had last week. While Logan claims he was picking a fight on purpose, since that evening, she's wondered if there really was some truth in his accusations. Is she shutting him out? Does he really feel that way?

The main reason she's been avoiding talking about her case with him is because it's her work, and she's trying to keep some kind of balance between her work life and her private life with Logan, but if she's completely honest, at least part of it is because she's used to working alone, to being independent, to keeping the various different parts of her life separate.

She thought it had been working, that by keeping the details quiet, she and Logan could live in blissful domesticity, but they're supposed to be getting closer, sharing more—they have a dog together, for God's sake—and perhaps she's wrong, perhaps by not talking to him, she's unintentionally driving a wedge between them.

"This case is kicking my ass," she says suddenly, her voice soft.

"You mean the case you won't talk about?"

"Yeah… but maybe I was wrong about that."

"About what?" He sounds confused.

"Not talking about it." She sits up carefully, trying not to disturb the sleeping puppy, and faces him. "I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping work and home separate, but what you said last week about me shutting you out—"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I told you, that was just—"

"I know." She tilts her head up towards him. "But can you honestly tell me there wasn't some truth to it?"

He's silent, which she takes as a no.

"So, here's the thing. I'm stuck. I'm out of leads. And maybe another perspective could help."

"You're asking me for help with your case?" He sounds amused.

"Maybe?"

She expects a smug retort, but he just flashes a smile, looking pleased to be asked, and shifts, sliding out from under Pony and sitting so he's facing her, the puppy lying on the sofa between them.

"Okay, hit me."

She nods. "Okay, so you know it's a rape case, and that we were looking at Charles Sinclair."

"Yeah."

"Turns out his DNA sample wasn't a match."

"Wait." Logan frowns. "How did you get his DNA? It wasn't from Mac, was it?"

"Oh… no," she says quickly. "That was our last resort. No, I paid a visit to his office last week, posed as an art student going for a job interview."

"Oh, dear."

"It was going fine until Madison walked in and almost blew my cover." She makes a face at the memory. "Anyway, I managed to get out with a sample." When Logan raises an eyebrow in question, she elaborates. "A sweaty hand towel."

"Right."

"I got it tested, but it wasn't a match," she adds. "So I'm back to square one."

"Okay…" Logan looks thoughtful. "Well, if I'm going to be any help, I'm gonna need some more backstory."

"Right." Of course. "Okay, so back in March, the victim was raped and beaten and found dumped in a field about 12 miles out of town. She'd been at the Grand that evening, in the Eagle's Nest, waiting for her boyfriend. When he cancelled their plans, she headed out down the stairwell and was attacked. She doesn't remember anything else."

"Okay." Logan nods, taking that in. "And the boyfriend was Charles Sinclair."

"No." Veronica shakes her head. "At least I don't think so. His DNA didn't match any of the samples from the victim, and… I don't know, something's just not adding up here. She got real cagey when I asked about her boyfriend. Too cagey."

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "The first lead I went after—one of the hotel staff members—was a dead end, and when we went through the security footage from the Grand and the list of guests, Charles Sinclair was the only one that fit. So, now I have no idea where to look."

"Hmm, yeah… not sure I can help either," Logan says, regret in his voice. "I was gonna suggest maybe hotel staff, but sounds like you already covered that."

"Yeah, we did. Everyone checks out."

"And no other possible IDs on the boyfriend?"

"No, nothing." Veronica lets out a groan of frustration. "I hate this, not knowing where to turn, and nothing makes any sense."

"You seem pretty invested in this case," Logan observes. "Emotionally, I mean."

She looks down at her hands, the crime scene photos of Grace's mangled, beaten body flashing through her mind.

"Yeah, it's hitting a bit close to home." She glances back up at him. "I sort of know the victim."

"Seriously?" Logan's eyes widen in surprise. "Who is it?"

"I'm not really supposed to say," she says, "but it's Grace Manning."

"Grace Manning?" Logan frowns, trying to place the name. "As in _Meg_ Manning?"

"Yep. Grace is her little sister. She's 19."

"Wow." Logan lets out a low whistle. "Shit, that sucks."

"Yeah. I don't know how she survived the attack and came out okay. It was pretty brutal."

"There's more to this than just her being Meg's sister, isn't there?" Logan asks, ever the intuitive one. "She must have only been, what nine, when we graduated high school?"

"There is." She nods. "Back in senior year, before everything with the baby, Duncan and I were looking into reports of child abuse of one of the kids Meg babysat for. It turned out it wasn't someone else's kid being abused, it was Grace."

"Shit." Logan's expression turns stricken, and for a moment, Veronica wishes she hadn't brought this up.

"Yeah. It wasn't physical… well, I don't think it was. But we found her locked in a closet, being forced to write lines and study for some kind of religious testing." Veronica shudders at the memory. "We tried to help her, but Mr. Manning walked in and called Lamb, and next thing we knew, _we_ were the ones being hauled off into the cop car, while Grace was just left here with her father."

"Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly," she agrees. "Before she died, Meg made me promise that the baby wouldn't be raised by her parents, so when it looked like they would get custody, Duncan and I came up with a plan to get him and the baby out of Neptune. Which we did, as you know. Only problem was, Grace kinda got left behind—I have no idea what happened to her after that, or what she's been through in the last ten years."

Logan doesn't say anything for a moment; he seems to be processing everything.

"Wow…" He murmurs eventually. "That's some fucked-up shit."

"Tell me about it."

"I wish I could help, you know, with the case, but I'm as stumped as you are."

"Yeah, well, it was worth a try." She shrugs. "Now you know what I've been working on."

"Yeah, but seriously, Veronica, you could have told me all this sooner, you know? It's a lot to deal with on your own."

She shrugs. "Guess I'm used to it."

"You know you don't have to, right?" He reaches across Pony and takes her hand. "If you just need to unload, I'm here. I don't have to know all the details, but whatever you need to talk about, just go ahead."

Veronica smiles, a familiar warmth spreading through her chest in response to the way he's looking at her, expression tender and open. What was she thinking, trying to keep him out of all this, trying not to let casework spill over into their time together?

"Okay. Maybe I will."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"What's this I hear about a puppy?"

Logan looks up from flight log he's filling out for his test flight this morning. Chaos shoots him an enquiring look as he checks through his own paperwork. They'll be testing two of the jets together today.

"Huh?" He feigns innocence in an attempt to postpone the inevitable teasing.

"Word on the street is that you and Veronica are getting all domestic."

Logan frowns. _How the hell does he know that?_

The confusion must show on his face because Chaos elaborates. "Apparently my wife and your girlfriend have been talking behind our backs. I hear there's even been a lunch date."

"Seriously?" Logan's surprised, not just because Veronica hasn't mentioned anything about Sarah, but also because she never been a 'lunching' type of girl. "She didn't say anything."

"You know how women are." Chaos shrugs, as if that explains everything. "So, this puppy?"

Logan sighs, reaching for his phone. Pulling up a photo he snapped the other day of Veronica hugging Pony, he holds it up. "Here."

Chaos takes a closer look, then grins. "Cute."

"She's called Pony."

"Pony?"

"Don't ask."

Chaos grins. "No, seriously, I wanna know."

"Long-standing joke," says Logan. "Veronica always wanted a pony when she was a kid. She knew she was never actually gonna get one, but that didn't stop her hoping every time she got a present. We didn't have a name yet and Veronica joked the puppy was her 'pony.' It stuck."

"Cute," Chaos repeats, then nudges Logan. "But a dog… I mean, that's commitment right there. Something you wanna confess?"

"No," Logan says quickly. "It's just a puppy. Veronica grew up around dogs; she's been hinting about getting one for a while, so I figured, why not?"

"Right." Chaos sounds disbelieving. "Well, you know what they say, first it's a dog, next it'll be babies."

Logan scoffs. "Yeah, right. I don't think so." Chaos shoots him a look, opening his mouth to counter, but Logan swiftly cuts in. "Speaking of, how are you guys getting on with that?"

Chaos' expression sobers and he looks down at his paperwork. "Not so good. Three months and _nada_."

Logan winces in sympathy. "I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah, well…" Chaos shrugs. "We said we wouldn't push it, just wait and see what happens, but shore rotation is only so long, you know? The timing's kinda important here."

"Yeah." Logan claps him on the shoulder. "You'll get there, man."

* * *

"Here." Veronica holds out a folded piece of paper as she walks past Logan to the fridge that evening.

"What's this?" he asks, taking it from her. He unfolds it and blinks in surprise; it's a cheque. "Veronica…"

"It's what I owe you, remember?" she says over her shoulder, her back to him as she digs through the fridge for something for dinner. "I said I would pay you back."

"I know you did, but this is your hard-earned money." He runs his thumb across her looping scrawl. "I wasn't expecting it all back at once."

Veronica turns, closing the fridge and placing yesterday's take-out cartons on the counter before folding her arms across her chest, watching him with a knowing expression.

"No, you were hoping I'd forgotten about it, so you could pretend you didn't agree to me paying it back."

"No," he protests feebly. "I just thought we'd work it out later."

"Yeah, okay."

She clearly doesn't believe him, and she's right not to. He's never had any intention of letting her pay back the money.

She looks at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing as she takes a step towards him. Her tone is warning as she says, "And don't even think about not cashing it, buddy. I'm giving it back, and that's final."

Logan sighs. "Okay, fine. I'm taking it."

Okay, so he'll cash it, but she's gonna get it back one way or another, he'll make sure of it.

"Great." She flashes him a smile, then steps over, rising up to give him a quick kiss. "Thanks."

Logan slips the cheque into his pocket as Veronica turns back to the take-out containers and heats them up. They grab forks and settle at the counter to eat. Normally, they would eat on the couch, but with a young, eager, untrained puppy on the loose, they have to be careful with food now.

"So," Veronica says as she digs into the egg-fried rice. "Do anything fun at work today?"

Logan shrugs. "Chaos and I flew test runs on a couple of the jets—we were running checks on the in-flight comms."

"Oh." She nods. "You know I have no idea what that means, right?"

"I know." Logan smirks. "But I know better than to bore you with the details."

She nods sagely. "And you have no idea how much I appreciate that."

"Chaos mentioned Pony today," he says then. "Said you told Sarah about her."

Veronica's eyes widen for a moment as she focuses her attention on the rice.

"Yeah. I did." She nods. "She was in town the other day, asked if we could meet for lunch."

"You didn't mention it." It's not an accusation, he's just curious.

She shrugs. "You know me, not really a social butterfly."

"You thought I'd judge you for it?"

"No." She lifts her eyes to his, biting her lip. "I just… it's stupid… I didn't want to make a big deal of it. She's your Navy friend's wife, and you know that's not—"

"Veronica," Logan cuts her off. "I know you're still getting used to the whole military thing. I'm not expecting you to suddenly become a 'Navy girlfriend' or anything. It doesn't have to mean anything other than that you guys are friends."

"Yeah…"

She looks embarrassed and uncomfortable, so he drops the subject, Pony offering an easy segue as she bounds up to them and starts pawing at his leg.

"So, we've had her almost two weeks." He gestures towards her. "Now, I don't know much about dogs, but shouldn't we be taking her to puppy training or something?"

Veronica glances down to where Pony is now looking up at her with pleading eyes. She smiles softly as she leans down from the stool to stroke her fur.

"Yeah, we should." She nods. "I'll look into it tomorrow."

* * *

Veronica wakes slowly on Sunday morning, warm and comfortable in the soft sheets. Logan is pressed up against her, his nose buried against the back of her neck, his warm breath sending pleasant tingles along her nerves, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She smiles lazily, contentment spreading through her. Even after almost three months, she's still having trouble believing that this is her life now, that she and Logan are a couple again, that they're happy together.

He shifts slightly behind her, arm tightening, his palm pressing against her bare stomach under her sleep shirt. She feels his arousal pressing against her through his boxers and it sends a spike of desire shooting up her spine. She bites her lip, arching her back a little and then he's pressing right _there_ and she has to stifle a moan. His hips rock forward and this time she can't help it.

" _God_ …"

"Nope, just me." He murmurs against her skin, his voice husky.

His lips press against the nape of her neck, before his tongue darts out to taste the same spot.

" _Logan_ …"

He grins against her skin. "That's better."

"Hmm…" she murmurs when his hand slides down over her stomach, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of her panties. "Morning."

"Good morning to you, too."

His hand slides lower, cupping her sex, one finger slipping between her lips, gently stroking her clit as his mouth travels along her neck. Veronica gasps, her hips jerking in response, but Logan takes it slow, teasing and stroking, working her up in the most delicious way. His hips rock against her tantalisingly as his fingers bring her closer and closer to climax.

"God, yes…" She shudders in his arms.

As she comes down, Logan shifts, pulling off his boxers, then tugs her panties down her legs and tosses them aside. He reaches for protection, then settles over her, his hard length pressing against her clit. He lowers his head and kisses her soundly, tongue tangling with hers, darting in and out in a promise of things to come.

Veronica breaks the kiss, winding her arms around his neck as she reaches up to tease his earlobe with her tongue. Logan gives a small moan, turning his head, as she nips at the soft skin with her teeth.

"Shit!" He stiffens suddenly above her.

"What? What's wrong?" She pulls back, looking up at him quizzically. Except he's not looking at her, he's staring at something across the bedroom. "Logan?"

She turns her head… and realises what he's looking at: about three feet from the bed sits the puppy, dark brown eyes staring up at them, her head cocked inquisitively.

Veronica smiles, bringing her hand up to his cheek and turning his attention back to her. "It's okay, it's only Pony."

His eyes widen as he starts shaking his head. "No, Veronica… I can't… not...not when she's looking at me like that."

"Seriously?" She bites back a grin. "You're afraid to get down and dirty in front of a dog? I really don't think she's going to care."

"But look at her." He nods towards the puppy, whose tail is now wagging happily, brushing back and forth against the hardwood floor. "Those eyes, that sad expression. It just feels wrong, like she'll be judging us forever."

Veronica studies him for a moment, seeing how serious he is, before she sighs in defeat.

She glances over at Pony, unable to stop a wide smile spreading across her face at the sight of the small animal watching them expectantly, like a child craving attention.

 _Well, at least she's not big enough to jump onto the bed yet._

"Okay, fine. We'll stop."

"Thank you."

Logan lets out a sigh, relief evident in his expression as he slides over to his side of the bed, flopping onto his back. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Pony stands, padding over to the bed and pawing at the covers.

"Guess that's my cue to get up," she mumbles, sitting up and fumbling for her discarded panties under the sheet. She turns to Logan, one finger held up in warning. "But you owe me, mister."

"At least you got off," Logan responds with a pout. "I'm gonna need a minute here."

"Hey, I'm not the one who was too shy to do it in front of the dog." Veronica grins, patting his chest in mock sympathy. "Pony and I will be in the kitchen."

Logan groans, reaching for a pillow and tugging it over his face, and Veronica can't help but chuckle softly as she slips out of the bed and makes her way out into the living room, Pony dutifully following behind.

* * *

"Okay, girl, here you go," says Logan, setting down a fresh bowl of water for the dog, who eagerly starts lapping at it.

Veronica's out late tonight, chasing down some lead somewhere for her big case—for the second time in the last few days—so as per her request, he swung by Keith's on his way home from base to pick up the puppy, then took her for a half-walk, half-jog along the beach.

"Looks like it's just you and me, huh, kid?" he says when the dog stops drinking and looks up at him expectantly.

He smiles, crouching down to run his hand over her soft fur.

"What shall we do with ourselves?" Pony's tail wags enthusiastically and she gives a small squeak of a bark in response. "Yeah, I have no idea either."

He stands, glancing around the kitchen. "Guess we should probably think about dinner. What do you think, girl?"

Pony barks again, stronger this time.

"Right. Dinner it is."

He fixes a bowl of puppy chow for the dog, then makes an omelette for himself. As he slides it onto a plate and digs in, perching on one of the kitchen stools, he debates the evening's options. It's Monday night and Dick's out of town again this week, plus it's not like he can leave the dog here on her own anyway—she's not even trained yet, and Veronica would kill him if she came home to find the place destroyed. Chaos and Sarah live down in San Diego so they're out, and Bilbo's deployed on the Truman now.

Who else is there? Wallace… Mac… Weevil… Keith?

"Not likely," he mutters around a mouthful of omelette. Beside him, Pony jumps up, resting her paws on his knee, trying to get his attention. "Good thing _you_ like me, huh, girl?"

After dinner, he grabs a Skist and a bag of potato chips and stretches out on the couch, pulling a blanket across himself and flicking on the TV. As he channel-hops, Pony joins him, curling up across his legs, making herself comfortable. Logan settles on a movie, but about thirty minutes in, Pony starts whining softly. Looking down, he finds her staring dolefully at the apartment door, her ears twitching with every noise.

"Missing your mommy, are you?" He strokes a comforting hand along her back. "She'll be back soon."

He doesn't realise what he's said until a few moments later. _Mommy? Seriously?_ Dog owners for only two-and-a-half weeks and already he's referring to them as parents.

 _Geez_.

* * *

When Veronica lets herself into the apartment late that night, she's greeted by the sight of Logan passed out on her couch, Pony sprawled out across his legs. She smiles at the picture they make, crossing over to the sofa and leaning over to kiss Logan's forehead, running her hand over Pony's head as she does so. The puppy wriggles, coming awake, which rouses Logan too. He blinks up at her sleepily, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, you're home." His voice is gravelly and sleep-filled.

Veronica bites back a chuckle. "Spending the night on the couch, are ya, buddy?"

Logan sits up and stretches, then winces uncomfortably, reaching up to rub his neck.

"Sore?"

When he nods, she gestures for him to move forward, then slides in behind him, perching on the arm of the sofa as she kneads his shoulders.

"You know, there's a nice, comfortable bed right in there," she says, teasing. "Where you can avoid sleep-related neck and shoulder injuries."

"Mmm… feels good," is his only response, his head bowed.

As Veronica runs her hands along his skin, she finds herself staring at the play of muscles beneath her fingers, marvelling at the elegant curve of his neck, the broadness of his shoulders. He really is a _man_ now, not just the boy—the memory—she carried with her for nine years. He relaxes beneath her touch, his fingers gently running through Pony's fur in time with the movement of her hands.

"How did it go with your lead tonight?" he asks a few moments later. "Any success?"

"Yep." She nods, though he can't see her. "We got a DNA sample from the basketball coach at PSU Friday night. It was a match. They arrested him, so I paid a visit to the San Diego PD this afternoon."

"PSU? San Diego PD?" Logan lifts his head, turning to look at her. "They're not far from the base, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you were in San Diego all Friday, and again this afternoon?"

"I was." Veronica frowns, stopping her massage. _What's he getting at?_

"You didn't think to maybe let me know you were in town?" His voice holds a hint of accusation. "I could have hung around."

"I was there for the case, Logan," she says reasonably. "There wasn't time to do anything else."

She returns to applying pressure to his sore muscles, but he stiffens, shifting away and turning to face her. His lips are set in a thin line, his brow furrowed.

"Still, you could have texted."

"Why are you getting bent out of shape about this?" she asks, shifting backwards a little. "It's not like we could have seen each other anyway."

He looks at her for a moment, before shaking his head. "No reason. Never mind."

Moving Pony from his lap, he gets up, stretching as he shuffles over to the kitchen. Veronica watches him go for just a moment before giving a sigh and sliding off the couch to follow him.

She leans against the kitchen counter. He ignores her in favour of opening the fridge, extracting a carton of orange juice.

"Logan…" she tries. "Come on, talk to me."

He doesn't look at her, just busies himself with pouring a glass of juice.

"Just tell me what I've done, okay? Give me a chance to fix it."

He stops, looks up toward the ceiling for a moment, then finally turns to her. His expression is guarded and she can't tell what he's thinking.

"I knew it was too good to last," he says eventually.

"What? What was too good to last?"

"I thought things had changed, that _we_ had changed." He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "But it's happening again."

"What do you mean?"

"You. Your cases. You ignoring me for your cases," he says. "It's like déjà vu. You _are_ shutting me out."

"But we talked about this." Veronica frowns, confused. _I've_ been _making an effort to be more open with him_. "I really am trying not to do that. I thought we were okay here?"

"I thought we were, too." He sighs. "But the last week you've been secretive, blowing me off in favour of doing God knows what for your case, swanning off to San Diego—where I work, by the way—without even so much as a 'hey, I'm in town'."

"What do you want me to do, Logan?" Veronica snaps, anger building in her chest. It's been a long day and she just wanted to be able to curl up with him and relax tonight, not fight. "I can't tell you everything about what I do."

"And I'm not expecting you to, but—"

"Look, this is my job, okay?" she cuts him off, feeling hurt. " _My_ job. There are some things about it I can't discuss with you. And it's not like I ask for all the details about what you do either."

"I know that," he says, his expression turning hard. "But, you know, you could at least show some real interest in it."

"Oh, please." She scoffs, giving up on staying calm. "Like you could even tell me anyway. Military secrets and all that."

"That's not the point."

She sighs. "So what the fuck _is_ your point, Logan?"

He throws his hands up in frustration. "Fuck if I know anymore."

He turns and stalks out of the kitchen, grabbing his jacket and pulling his sneakers on. He reaches for his car keys. Veronica watches him, heart pounding, her chest tight with anger.

"Where the hell are you going?"

He opens the door. "I can't be here right now."

The door slams behind him, leaving Veronica staring at it in silence.

 _What the hell just happened?_

 _Shit_.

Beside her, Pony whines and she looks down to see the puppy staring up at her with wide, sad eyes.

"Yeah, I know just how you feel," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. "I need to go find him and fix this."

She reaches for Pony's leash and fixes it onto her collar, before grabbing her jacket and heading out of the apartment. It's late, and Logan's car is still in the lot, so he can't have gone far.

It takes a few minutes of walking along the beach, Pony tugging at her leash, before she finds him. He's sitting in the sand next to a small outcrop of rocks, his legs drawn up and forearms resting on his knees as he stares out at the dark ocean, only illuminated by the moonlight and a flickering streetlamp several feet away.

Pony scampers over to him, pulling Veronica along with her, and Logan pets her warmly. Veronica hesitantly steps closer, gesturing to the spot beside him.

"Is this seat taken?"

He glances down at it, then shrugs. "Go ahead."

She settles down into the sand, mimicking his position as Pony squeezes in between them. She joins him in staring out at the waves for a moment, before saying softly, "I'm sorry."

When he doesn't say anything in return, she tries again.

"I don't mean to shut you out, I really don't," she says. "I don't want there to be things like this between us, but it's difficult for me, you know?"

She looks over at him, but his gaze is still fixed straight ahead.

"I wasn't lying when I said there are some things I can't tell you, but it's not just that. It's…"

She pauses, trying to find the right words.

"Go on," he says quietly.

"I've been alone for a long time. I'm used to it just being me, fending for myself, and not really telling people much about my life," she tries to explain. "Even in New York, with Piz, I never really let him in; we didn't talk about the big stuff, or even that much of the small stuff either. We just coexisted together without really making much effort." She sighs. "Then I came back here, started investigating again, we got back together, and it was good. Really good. Like everything was falling back into place."

"Okay…" Logan frowns. "But?"

"But you weren't here. For six months, it was just me, doing things the way I've always done them. Alone." She looks down at her hands. "My dad was busy recovering and then working his own cases, Mac knew everything anyway and Wallace didn't want to know."

"Veronica…" She looks over to find Logan watching her thoughtfully.

"I know I'm not very good at opening up, at letting people in. I'm not used to having someone in my life who wants to know all that stuff… but I'm trying to get better at it," she tells him softly, turning back to the ocean again. "It just… sometimes I just get so caught up in a case that I kind of forget about everything else and don't take the time to stop and think whether it might be affecting other people."

Between them, Pony gives a soft whine, and Veronica reaches over to stroke her, her eyes locking with Logan's once more.

"So, I'm sorry," she says sincerely. "It's not deliberate. I don't intend to shut you out, it just seems to happen without me realising it."

He doesn't react for a moment, just studies her intently, before he nods, placing his hand over hers on Pony's back.

"Okay."

"I will make an effort to tell you more stuff. I promise," she says. "I do want to make this work between us."

"Me, too."

Logan's thumb runs across the back of her hand, before he shifts, letting go and sliding his arm around her, pulling her close—well, as close as he can with a wriggling puppy in the way, at least. Veronica lets her head rest against his shoulder.

"Sorry for snapping earlier," he says softly. "It just feels like you've had more important things to do than spend time with me lately."

"Well—" she starts, but he cuts her off.

"I know what you're going to say, they _are_ important, because they're for a case," he says. "I know that. And I'm not asking you to blow off your cases for me, I'm just asking that you keep me in the loop, so I'm not wondering where you are all the time."

Veronica nods slowly. "I can do that. And if I forget, you have my permission to call me on it, okay?"

"Okay." He smiles.

They sit together in silence for a couple of minutes before Veronica speaks up again, "So, it turns out we were wrong about Grace Manning's boyfriend."

If Logan seems surprised by the change in topic, he doesn't show it. "It wasn't the boyfriend?"

"There _was_ no boyfriend," she tells him. "She was meeting a client at the Grand."

"Client, as in… she was a hooker?"

"High-end escort," Veronica clarifies. "Yeah. She was trying to pay for school."

"Wow," Logan comments. "So that guy—the PSU guy—he's the one who attacked her?"

"Well, his DNA was a match. Leo called me, said they'd arrested him. He claims he only had sex with her and left." Veronica sighs, giving a shake of her head. "So, now I just need to find proof."

"I'm sure you will," says Logan softly, tightening his arm around her.

"Yeah."

There's a pause before he says, "Thanks for telling me."

Veronica turns her head, giving him a soft smile and a nod, acknowledging his words. Instead of returning the smile, he frowns again, as if puzzling something out.

"Wait, Leo? As in… _Deputy_ Leo? From when we were in high school?"

"Yeah, why?"

"What's he doing calling you?"

Veronica frowns, detecting a hint of… well, _something_ in his tone. Jealousy?

"He's a detective now, down at San Diego PD." She shrugs. "I called him when we got the DNA results." Off Logan's confused look, she adds, "He did me a favour a few months ago, helped with your case—he took statements after the accident on the Serendipity."

"Oh. Right." Logan nods. "Guess I owe him my thanks, then."

"Yeah."

Silence falls between them again, before Veronica shivers.

"It's late and I'm cold," she says. "We should get back."

* * *

Logan glances at his watch, tapping his fingers against the ice-cold glass of water in his hand. _Shit, Veronica, where are you?_

It's Thursday evening, and he arrived at Keith Mars' house for their weekly dinner almost an hour ago, but Veronica hasn't shown yet. He glances over at Keith who is standing by the grill in the backyard, flipping burgers. True to her word, Veronica has been making an effort to let him know what she's doing, so he knows she's been spending the last few days tailing the PSU guy, but she was supposed to be here already.

"So, how's life in the Navy treating you, Logan?" asks Keith, pulling him from his thoughts. "All good?"

Logan nods. "Yeah, it's going well."

"Enjoying your shore rotation?"

"Yeah," he says. "It's good."

There's an awkward silence as he tries to think of something intelligent to say, but he comes up empty. There's just something about Keith Mars that makes him nervous; their conversations always seem stilted no matter how hard they try.

"So, uh, how's the investigating going?" he asks then. "Weevil's case going well?"

"Eh." Keith tilts his head. "It's going, at least."

"That's good."

There's another awkward silence and Logan glances toward the gate, willing it to open. _Come on, Veronica. You're late._

As if on cue, he hears a car pull up outside the house and a few moments later, Pony bounds towards the gate with an excited bark as it opens and Veronica appears. Logan sighs with relief, glad for the break in tension.

"Perfect timing," Keith says, turning to his daughter with a smile. "You missed all the cattle-slaughtering, butchering and grilling—just in time to eat."

"I know better than to come between men and their blood rituals," Veronica says as she walks over to Logan, resting her hand on his shoulder. "I figured the whole meat-on-fire thing was a chance for you two to bond."

She plucks the glass of water from his hand before he has a chance to protest and takes a sip. Logan stands to help Keith carry the burgers to the table and the three of them settle into their seats.

"Dig in, guys," Keith says, passing him the salad bowl.

Logan takes some salad as Veronica places a burger on his plate, then hands the bowl to her. His mouth starts watering as the delicious smell of it assaults his senses. God, he missed real, fresh burgers out at sea.

"Almost four months on shore and I have to tell you, real food hasn't gotten old yet," he says appreciatively, picking up the burger and taking a bite.

The taste of the meat and spices hitting his tongue is like heaven and he groans, eyes sliding closed.

"Those monosyllabic reviews are the ones you like to hear," says Keith with a smile, as he adds seasoning to his salad.

Logan swallows and gives a nod.

"You just don't realise how good you have it until you get shipped off to sea for months on end without fresh food," he says. "When you get back, it's like all your senses are heightened."

"But you're here for a while now, though?"

"Yeah," he says. "I shouldn't have to deploy again for about a year."

Keith nods slowly. "That's good. Gives you some stability."

"Yeah."

Logan glances at Veronica, but she seems lost in thought. _Probably still thinking about the case._ He's about to get her attention, but his phone buzzes, interrupting the moment. He picks it up, then frowns; it's Cosmo.

"Hey, it's one of the guys from my squadron. You mind if I grab this?"

"Go ahead." Keith smiles.

He stands, accepting the call and bringing the phone to his ear as he heads through the patio doors and into the house, barely noticing Pony following him inside.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

"Mouth…" Cosmo's voice sounds muffled and strained, and Logan immediately straightens. "Something's happened. On the Truman."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's Bilbo, man. He's… he—"

"Shit, what happened?" asks Logan urgently, his gut tightening with dread.

"It—it was a night landing, on the carrier," Cosmo sounds like he's holding back tears. "The other night. Something… I dunno, something went wrong. He misjudged the angle or something. The jet hit the ramp."

 _Fuck. Shit. Fuck, no. Not Bilbo._

"No—no, that can't…" Logan swallows, trying to force the words out. "No, he's made hundreds of those landings. He's the best there is."

"Mouth—"

"He's okay, though, right?" He's grasping at straws and he knows it. "He's gonna be fine."

There's a long pause before, "He didn't make it, Mouth. Bilbo's dead."

"No… no. No," Logan shakes his head, refusing to believe it. "That's not—that would never happen. Not to him."

"I'm sorry, man." Cosmo exhales heavily. "They flew him back last night. Funeral's on Saturday up in Seattle. I'll email the details. You will be a pallbearer, right? It's what he would have wanted."

Logan blinks, unable to take it all in. "Yeah—yes, of course. I'll fly up tomorrow."

"Thanks, man. This is—" Cosmo stops, words catching in his throat.

"Yeah… I know." Logan nods numbly.

Cosmo ends the call, leaving Logan staring at his phone in shock. Did that really just happen? Bilbo's not dead… he can't be.

It was just supposed to be a short tour, to keep up his deployment requirement; no different from any other. Except it is, this time. His friend is dead. His friend, who has a wife and a child, a family who are all alone now.

He swallows, his fingers tightening around the phone, unable to move. He closes his eyes, wills the sudden tightness in his chest to loosen, the lump in his throat to go away, but it doesn't. Instead he feels tears beginning to form. With a shuddering intake of breath, he slowly opens his eyes again.

At his feet, Pony whimpers, like she senses something's wrong, then bounds to the sliding patio doors, pawing at them. With an absent nod, Logan, wills his feet to move, numbly walking over to the doors, pushing them open and stepping out into the too-bright sunlight.

He sees Veronica looking up at him, eyebrow raised in curiosity. "There you are. That was a long—"

She stops, her eyes widening in concern and worry as she looks closely at him. He bites his lip, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Veronica stands up, but he can't move, his fingers still clutching the phone.

He forces himself to make eye contact with her. "There was an accident. On the Truman."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Are you okay?" Veronica asks Logan as she opens the door to her apartment.

They left her father's place pretty quickly after the phone call, leaving Logan's car in her father's driveway as Veronica drove them home. He gave a broken version of the story before they left her dad's, but he's barely said a word since, just spent the journey back across town staring out of the window.

Logan steps past her and into the apartment, wordlessly moving across the living room and coming to a halt at the kitchen counter. His back to her, he rests his hands on the edge, shoulders rising as his head bows. He stays like that, unmoving, for several long moments Veronica, unsure how to react, edges into the room, gently placing her jacket and handbag on the couch before approaching him. She hesitates for a moment, hand lifting, but pauses before she touches him. Maybe he doesn't want her comfort right now, maybe he needs some space.

Before she can decide what to do, his cell phone buzzes again and he shifts, pulls it out of his pocket with a heavy sigh as he glances down at the screen.

"It's Chaos," he mutters, his voice cracking slightly as he presses the call button and brings the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

" _Mouth, man, I just heard_ ," Veronica can hear Chaos' voice through the line. " _This is so fucked up._ "

"Tell me about it," Logan says, still facing away from her. "I just can't… I mean, it's fucking Bilbo. He was too good for something like this to-"

He stops, swallowing harshly and Veronica steps closer, resting a comforting hand on his back.

" _I know_ ," comes the reply, tinny but clear. " _You're going to the funeral, right? Cosmo's just sent the details: Tahoma National Cemetery, Saturday morning._ "

"Yeah, I'm going." He nods. "I'll get a flight out in the morning."

" _Yeah, us too_. _Look, man, I gotta go. We'll see you tomorrow, okay_?"

"Yeah, tomorrow…"

Logan ends the call, staring down at the phone for a moment before placing it gently down on the counter and bracing his hands against the marble surface. He just stares at nothing for a moment, before stiffening, a heavy, shaky breath escaping his lips.

"It's okay," murmurs Veronica, moving closer to his side, her hand rubbing small circles over his lower back. "It's gonna be okay."

She watches his eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressing together as he fights against his emotions, and her heart clenches with sympathy.

He shakes his head slowly.

"No… it's not." The words are shaky and catch in his throat, like he's barely holding on.

"Come here," says Veronica softly, hand on his arm as she turns him towards her.

She wraps her arms around his neck, hugging as tightly as she can. He lets out a heaving sigh, forehead falling to her shoulder as his arms come around her, holding her to him. Veronica closes her eyes, lets her fingers run through his hair, massaging his scalp in comfort.

She stands in the middle of her apartment, holding him, until he takes a shuddering breath and releases his hold on her. Veronica observes him in silence as he crosses the kitchen, pours two glasses of water, then carries them to the coffee table and sinks down into the soft couch cushions. She joins him, and his arm comes around her as she settles on the couch, legs curled beneath her, head resting against his shoulder.

"So, the funeral's in Seattle, right?" she asks softly a few moments later.

"Yeah… a few miles south," he says absently. "I'm gonna fly out in the morning."

"Okay, we'll leave first thing."

He starts at that. "We? I thought you were busy with your case?"

Truth is, she really does need to get onto Lamb about a search warrant for Bellamy's computer and phone, but she's not about to abandon Logan to do it.

She shakes her head. "It can wait. I'm going with you."

"Veronica…" Logan says, something in his tone causing Veronica to sit up and turn to him. He's looking at her tenderly. "Thank you."

She smiles, lifting a hand to his cheek as she studies him for a moment. He's pale and drawn, his eyes red. She leans in, gently pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss, trying to offer some small solace.

* * *

Logan can't sleep. He's spent the last two hours tossing and turning; every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is Bilbo's jet crashing to the deck. All he can think about is his friend standing beside him on the ship, explaining why he's so meticulous about carrier landings. Bilbo was one of the best fighter pilots he ever met, he didn't deserve this.

With a sigh, he turns onto his back, fingers running through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling.

"Logan?" Veronica shifts beside him, blinking at him sleepily.

"I'm okay," he says. "Go back to sleep."

"You're not okay." She props her head on her hand, reaching over to place her hand on his t-shirt-clad chest. "What can I do?"

He closes his eyes, feeling the grief rising in his chest once again. "I don't think there's anything you _can_ do."

She moves closer, snuggling up to his side and wrapping her arm around his waist as her ankle slides over his.

"I'm here," she says, "If you want to talk about it, or whatever."

He nods, but doesn't say anything… _can't_ say anything. Instead, he savours the feel of her beside him, absorbs the comfort in her embrace. They lie together for a few minutes, Logan listening to her soft breathing. His thoughts turn to Bilbo again, and before he realises he's speaking, the words are tumbling from his mouth.

"He was only a year older than me," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "But he was so much better. He has—had—a wife, and a two-year-old son. Anthony. He's the most adorable kid. Fuck, how did this happen?"

"I don't know," Veronica murmurs softly, her fingers tracing gentle patterns over his t-shirt. He reaches up and takes her hand in his.

"You know how he got his call sign?"

Veronica shakes her head, linking their fingers together. "I assume it's something Lord of the Rings-related."

"He was a total nerd." Logan smiles sadly. "Every Sunday he hosted a Dungeons and Dragons game in the Rec Room. Even roped me into playing a few months back—you know, when I had that head cold and was grounded?"

"Really?" He can hear amusement in her tone. "I'd have paid to see that."

"I was a _bard_ ," he tells her, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "I spent the whole time writing limericks about the other characters."

She squeezes his hand. "I bet they loved that."

"Yeah…" He closes his eyes, memories flitting through his mind as a wave of anger flows over him. "Shit, it's not fair. He made that landing hundreds of times. He could park his bug on a dime. And then one mistake. One mistake with no margin of error."

Veronica is silent for a moment, but then she squeezes his hand again and murmurs softly, "I'm so sorry."

* * *

Friday morning, Veronica flies up to Seattle with Logan. She holds his hand the whole way there, her heart going out to him as she takes in the tired, red eyes and pale pallor of his skin. They rent a car from the airport and drive the fifteen miles down to Kent, Washington, where the cemetery is located, in relative silence. Logan is unusually quiet and subdued and Veronica doesn't know what to say to help. She wishes she could just make it all better, get rid of his pain, but she can't.

Checking into the hotel, Logan carries their bags up to the room, dropping them onto the large bed in the centre before stepping over to the window and looking out. Veronica stays near the bed, watching him with concern. When he brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn, she speaks up.

"You wanna take a nap? You barely slept last night."

Logan shakes his head.

"No. I'm okay." He turns to her, his expression soft, almost pleading—for what, she doesn't know. "I should go find out what I need to do for the funeral."

"Yeah." She nods, giving him a small smile. "Okay."

She entwines her fingers with his as they walk out of the room and down to the lobby. They find Chaos and Sarah in the lounge bar, along with another man in service khakis who Logan introduces as Cosmo, his WSO. Cosmo's here alone, his wife having stayed behind at Lemoore to look after the kids. A few minutes later, three more servicemen arrive: Bilbo and Chaos' WSOs, and Bilbo's older brother, Jimmy. The six of them head over to the cemetery to discuss their pallbearing duties for the service, leaving Veronica and Sarah to catch up in the hotel lounge.

* * *

Logan and his squadron-mates return to the hotel bar in time for dinner, and they spend the evening reminiscing about the good times they'd shared with Bilbo over the years. Veronica sits beside Logan at the table, hand placed on his knee comfortingly and occasionally his hand comes down to cover hers as he sends her a grateful smile.

Veronica studies him with a combination of concern and wonder as he converses with his friends; this is the first time she's really able to see just how much his fellow officers mean to him, how they interact with each other, what their relationship is like. He's like this whole new person around them; no longer the spoiled, smart-mouthed rich kid she'd grown up with, but a respected military officer who has to deal with life and death on a regular basis.

Logan's phone rings near the end of the meal and he quickly excuses himself to take the call. Veronica strains to get a glimpse of him as he takes it, but he disappears out of sight around a corner. When he returns, he looks serious, his lips pressed together in a grim line, but when she asks what's wrong he just shakes his head, forces a smile and tells her it's nothing. She lets it drop for now, but can't help noticing he keeps looking at her thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face, through the rest of the evening.

She waits until they're back in their room to broach the subject.

"You finally gonna tell me what that phone call was about?" she asks, leaning against the bathroom doorframe, observing him as he splashes water on his face, then reaches for a towel, running it across his brow.

He straightens, glancing at her in the mirror before placing the towel down and turning to face her. Leaning his hands on the counter, he sighs.

"It was my CO," he says. "They want me to go back."

"Go back where?" She doesn't understand… or maybe she does, but she'd rather stay in denial.

He shrugs, looking down for a second, then back up at her, expression apprehensive. "Aboard ship. They're short now."

 _What? They can't do that… can they? He's just spent six months on a ship._

He runs a hand across his face, then crosses his arms. "You know, with Bilbo gone, they're shorthanded."

 _No, no, he can't. Not now._

Veronica shakes her head.

"Yeah, but—" She stops, realising her voice is rising in pitch. She takes a breath, tries to calm down. She takes a step toward him. "Logan, you're on shore duty. That's supposed to last at least another year."

"I know." Logan sighs, looking at her apologetically. "But they need me, Veronica."

"Wait." Her eyes narrow, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as something occurs to her. "Are they telling you that you _have_ to go back? Is it an order?"

"No, but…"

"So you could choose not to?"

"Veronica…" His tone holds hints of both warning and regret.

"You could choose not to," she repeats, taking another step closer, watching him searchingly. "If you wanted, you could tell them no."

He sighs, pushing away from the sink and stopping before her. His hands gently resting on her shoulders as he says softly, "Look, I haven't decided for sure what I'm going to do, okay? But you have to understand—this is what the job _is_. I trained for this. I worked my ass off for this. I _chose_ this life. You of all people should understand that."

Veronica studies him carefully, sees the earnest expression, the pleading in his eyes. "I do understand, Logan, but why you? Why do _you_ have to be the one to go back? Why not someone else?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head, though he averts his eyes from her as he speaks.

"Yes, you do." She frowns. "What is it?"

He sighs resignedly. "I don't have ties. The other guys… they're all married, they have kids, families, homes. That's taken into consideration in situations like this. They know I don't have that, that I can ship out whenever."

"Right." Veronica nods, blinking back the sting of tears she can feel forming in her eyes. "Yeah. No ties."

Logan looks down at her sadly, reaching for her arm. "Veronica…"

She flinches from his touch. "I get it. You're a lone wolf."

"Veronica…" he repeats, but she turns and walks out of the room, trying desperately not to let her emotions show.

She climbs into the bed, turning her back to the bathroom and sweeping her fingers across her face, wiping away the few tears that have leaked out. She _does_ understand, she does get it… but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

 _No ties, huh? What about_ me _, Logan?_

* * *

The funeral is brutal. It's the only way Logan can describe it. It isn't the first military funeral he's attended, but it's the first one where he's actually known the deceased, has been friends with him; it's the first one where he's actually been part of the ceremony.

There are about a hundred people here, sitting on white folding chairs arranged in rows on the stone patio in the middle of the cemetery. Bilbo's photo is displayed on an easel, a US flag hanging behind it and his wife, Allison sitting just in front, with Anthony in her lap.

The music starts and Logan helps Chaos, Cosmo and the other pallbearers slide the coffin, flag draped across it, from the white hearse. They get into position as the senior officer standing beside them calls for a salute. The procession begins and Logan spots Veronica standing near the back, her hand on her heart along with everyone else. She's so close that as he passes by, he has to resist the urge to reach out and touch her.

They place the coffin down beside the photo of Bilbo and he passes Veronica again on the way to their seats; he forces himself to keep his eyes straight ahead and not look at her, because if he does, he might break down.

The eulogy passes in a blur; Logan barely hears the words, his attention focused on the casket, memories of his squadron-mate, his friend, flitting through his mind. Before he knows it, the eulogy is over and the three-volley salute begins. He nods to Chaos and they move to the casket again, lifting the flag and folding it meticulously. Logan chances a glance at Chaos; his friend's eyes are wet and red-rimmed. He nods in understanding as Taps plays behind them.

When the flag is folded, Logan steps over to Allison, kneeling before her and taking her hand, trying to convey his condolences the best he can without words, before he hands the flag to her.

The ceremony ends with the traditional Missing Man flyover, the four jets, piloted by members of his old squadron at Lemoore, sweeping across the horizon in unison before one separates from the other three, climbing high into the sky. He's flown that formation before, has been that lone pilot in the formation, hurtling upwards.

It's a fucking humbling experience.

It's in that moment that he makes the decision. He has to go back, he _needs_ to. This is what he's good at; it's what saved him, made his life worth living again. He needs it. It's what he has to do.

* * *

When his pallbearer duties are over, Logan heads back to the gathering of mourners. He spots Veronica as he moves through the crowd; she's talking with some of his squadron-mates' wives. If he didn't know her so well, he would think she's comfortable with them, but he knows her, knows her tells. She feels out of place here.

He approaches the group, relaxing when Veronica notices him. She gives Cathy an apologetic smile before turning and walking toward him. He doesn't smile, can't smile, but softens his expression the best he can as she approaches.

She stops in front of him and he can't trust himself to speak, so he simply studies her. Her gaze drops to the stripes on his uniform and he watches with concern as tears well up in her eyes. She steps close, sliding her arms around his waist, letting her head drop to his chest. Logan holds her tight, his chin resting against her head as he closes his eyes.

"You're going back, aren't you?" she asks, voice muffled against his dress shirt.

He nods. "I'm sorry. I have to."

* * *

When Logan lets himself into Veronica's apartment late Wednesday morning, he hears her voice floating through the living room from her bedroom. With a smile, he toes off his shoes and moves across the hardwood floor.

"Why don't you go chew up Daddy's things?" she sounds annoyed, but what gets him is the use of the word 'Daddy'. "He has a bomber jacket just begging for some puncture marks."

"I heard that," Logan speaks up, coming around the corner and leaning against the doorframe, sliding his free hand into his pocket.

Veronica is crouched on the floor in front of Pony, who has one of her boots in her mouth. She looks flustered, but smiles when she sees him, standing up and walking across the room.

"You're home. I didn't hear the door." She leans up, kisses him on the lips.

He grins, pushing away from the doorframe and assuming a boxing stance in response to her words. "It's my advanced military training. They teach you to move like a panther."

"Oh, yeah?" She grins, running her hands down over his chest. "Is there a lot of call for stealth in the cockpit of a sixty-million-dollar fighter jet?"

"The SEALS aren't the only ones with moves." He walks past her, into the bedroom. Pony bounds over to him and he leans down to pet her, grinning when she licks his chin. "How're my girls?"

"Well, one of us peed in your shoe, and the other barked all morning," she says, deadpan.

He looks around the room, noticing the half-packed suitcase open on the bed. He frowns.

"What's up? You going somewhere?"

"Just for one night. I have to fly out to Vegas for the case." She wraps her arms around his neck. "I should be back tomorrow afternoon."

He's about to voice his disappointment, but then she steps back, looking down at the envelope in his hand and frowns. "What's all that?"

"My paperwork, to go back on the ship." He pulls out the papers. "It's going in the mail this afternoon."

They want him to go back next week, so he's been given special leave to prepare and has been spending the last few days filling out paperwork and attending appointments with his dentist, doctor and financial advisors. He's well aware that she's not happy he's leaving, even though she's pretending she's okay with it. She takes another step back, letting go of him, and he raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, let me have it." He gestures with his hands. "Again. Give me your best Columbia Law School try."

"I'm out of ideas." Her tone is light, but he can tell it's forced. "Unless you think a rendition of 'Billy Don't Be a Hero' will work."

He sighs. "Nothing's going to happen to me. These guys we're fighting, they don't have anything that can take down a Hornet."

Her expression tightens, her eyes turning stormy.

"You do realise I _just_ went to a military funeral, don't you?" There's anger in her tone and Logan's heart sinks. _I should've known this was coming_. "And there are Wikipedia pages about every single aviation accident in naval history?"

His jaw clenches, feeling a rush of irritation.

"Come on, Veronica. I don't do this to you. The stuff you do is at least as risky as what I do," he says, his voice tight. He's trying to keep his cool, but it's not easy when she's snapping at him. "I mean, you're off to Vegas to do God knows what. You work crazy hours; you deal with dangerous people. I don't like it, but I've learned to accept that it's the price of admission."

Veronica's eyes widen slightly, her cheeks flushing. "How long have you been holding on to _that_ argument?"

He folds his arms across his chest. "Well, it is the obvious one."

Her hands rise in annoyance her eyes flashing. "Look, I'm not saying you don't have the right to do exactly what you've made up your mind to do. I'm just saying, don't act like it's nothing. Don't act like it's just another day at work. It's a big deal, Logan. You could be hurt. I could—"

She stops suddenly, but Logan's pretty sure he knows what was going to come next. He wills her to say it, but she just takes a deep breath, then quickly looks down at her watch.

"Look, I have to go. I can't miss my flight. We can talk about this later."

She starts to move past him, but he stops her with a hand on her arm. She looks up at him, eyes filled with both frustration and sadness.

"No," he says firmly.

"What?"

"No, we're gonna talk about this now."

"Logan, I can't." She shakes her head. "My flight…"

"So?" he says dismissively. "I'll get you on the next one."

"No. I'm done talking right now."

"Well, I'm not."

Her jaw twitches and she yanks her arm from his grip, staring up at him expectantly. "So talk."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing here." His eyes narrow as he studies her. "You're picking a fight so you don't have to deal with your feelings, and doing it right before you have to leave on a trip so I can't respond." She just raises an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest. "Veronica, what were you going to say just now?"

She shakes her head. "That's not gonna work, Logan. _You're_ the one who wants to talk."

"Oh, please. You know _my_ feelings here; _you're_ the one holding back. Come on, get it all out."

"Logan…" she says warningly.

"Okay, I'll finish it for you _: I could… have to stay in this apartment all alone_ …" He throws out the first trivial thing that comes to mind. Not that he actually thinks she would care about that, but he's trying to goad her into admitting the truth. "Or _I could… have to_ _look after Pony by myself_ , or _I could_ —"

"I could _lose_ you, okay?" The words burst from her lips. "God, Logan. I just got you back and now you're leaving again."

 _Well, shit. Now I feel like a dick._

"Veronica…" He reaches for her, but she turns away.

"You might never come back."

"I will," he says softly, stepping up behind her, running his hands down her arms.

"You don't know that," she counters. "Bilbo didn't."

Logan closes his eyes, pressing his lips together as an image of Bilbo flits through his mind.

"I-I know." His voice cracks and he winces. "I'm not saying it isn't a risk, but I can't let that stop me from stepping up and doing the job I was trained to do."

"Logan…"

"Like I said, your job is dangerous, too," he cuts her off. "You could get killed out there and I wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop it. And I know you'll still keep doing it no matter what I think, so all I can do is accept it, trust that you'll be safe, and not focus on what _might_ happen."

Her shoulders lift and a shuddering breath escapes her lips. She turns, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her forehead against his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Logan lifts his hand beneath her hair, cups her jaw and brings her head up, forcing her to make eye contact. "Me, too."

He gives her a small smile, his thumb stroking her cheek as he leans in and touches his lips to hers. It's a small, soft kiss, but as she responds, it conveys everything they're both feeling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Veronica's exhausted by the time she gets home from Vegas the next afternoon. She spent the night before tossing and turning, her mind whirring, her thoughts stuck on both the missing pieces of the puzzle in her case and also on Logan leaving so soon. He's due to ship out again on Tuesday—the Navy is flying him to Norfolk, Virginia, then over to Italy and down to the Mediterranean, where the Truman is currently located—which only gives them a few more days together.

She lets herself into the apartment and blinks for a moment at the sight of Logan sitting at the kitchen counter, his back to her. She's not used to him being home during the day but he's on leave now until he ships out, so he's around a lot more right now.

"Hey," she says as she pulls off her jacket and slips out of her shoes.

Logan doesn't respond, doesn't even look up to acknowledge her, just keeps staring at something on the counter. Veronica frowns.

"Everything okay?" She crosses the room. "Logan, what's-?"

She stops, the words catching in her throat as she reaches his side and sees what's sitting in front of him: a bottle of whisky and a half-filled glass. He's staring at the glass intently, palms flat on the counter on either side of it.

 _Shit_.

"Logan…" she starts cautiously, trying to keep her voice calm, though she's panicking inside. "What are you doing?"

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, gaze fixed on the three fingers of whisky in the glass.

"I was in the grocery store earlier," he says after a long moment. "We needed carrots for dinner. I wasn't paying attention, ended up in the liquor aisle. I was just standing there, staring at the bottles, trying to find a reason not to buy one." He shrugs helplessly. "Next thing I knew, I was walking out with this."

"Logan…" Veronica's heart leaps into her throat at the implication in his words. "Please tell me you haven't…"

"Oh, I haven't drunk any," he says. "Not yet, anyway."

"And you're not going to," she says firmly.

"I want to," he admits, sparing her only a quick, anguished glance before returning to the alcohol. "I _really_ want to."

"No, you don't," she tells him resolutely. "You've worked too hard and for too long to take even a sip. You're better than this."

"Am I?" he murmurs. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

Veronica studies his profile; he looks tired, and lost. She slides her hand over his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

"Of course you are."

He shakes his head sadly. "Would it really matter? Just one drink?"

"Yes," Veronica says urgently. "You know it would.

Memories of her mother's many failed attempts to stop drinking flitted through her mind.

' _Just one more tonight, Keith. I'll stop tomorrow, I promise.'_

She never did.

"Logan, you can't do this," she tells him. "You've just reached eight years sober. _Eight_. That's a massive achievement. Don't throw it away now."

Logan nods, though his gaze is still fixed on the bottle and the glass. Veronica reaches over and picks them up, crossing the room and tipping the contents of the glass down the sink, before stashing the bottle out of sight in a cupboard, for disposal later.

Turning back around, she finds him sitting with his head in his hands. She moves back to the counter, resting her forearms on it, leaning in as she watches him cautiously.

"What's going on, Logan?" she asks softly.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair, before he lifts his head, looking at her, his expression stricken. "Bilbo's gone."

"I know." Veronica straightens, moving closer and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He was a good man. He didn't deserve to die."

"No, he didn't," she agrees.

"You know, we're trained to deal with this, to carry on with the mission, even if something goes wrong," he says softly. "We're trained to block out our emotions."

Veronica's not sure what she can say to that.

"When I'm out there, on the ship, flying missions, I can do that," he adds. "But here… back home, where there's no danger, no pressure…"

"You can't block it out anymore," she finishes, understanding dawning.

He nods. "I'm trying to, but it's not working."

He closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them again, she can see tears collecting in the corners.

It's then that Veronica realises he's been bottling up all his emotions since he found out about Bilbo. He hasn't cried once, not even at the funeral. He's been trying to stay strong, to pretend he's fine and take it in stride, but underneath, he's falling apart.

"You _have_ to go, don't you," she says, more of a statement than a question. "Not because you think the job is more important, or because it's what you chose to do, but because you _need_ to. Because if you don't go, you might not be able to deal with your grief."

"Yeah." His head bows. "I have to get back out there. I need the discipline and the structure; I need to keep busy. And I have to prove, to myself at least, that Bilbo didn't die in vain, that this war is worth putting our lives on the line for, is worth serving our country for."

He looks back up at her, his expression solemn.

"I know you're not happy about me leaving, Veronica, but I'm not doing this to spite you or because I don't value our relationship," he says seriously. "It's something I need do it for _me_ , for my own self-preservation, so I can keep my head above water, so I don't end up wallowing in self-pity and falling off the wagon."

"Logan…"

Veronica swallows harshly, feeling a lump forming in her throat.

"I know you're scared I won't come back, but I don't want to be scared to get back out there again." He reaches for her hand, entwines their fingers.

"I _am_ scared," she admits. "I don't want to lose you again, not to some freak air accident, and definitely not to booze."

"Same here," he says. "I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose myself either."

His eyes fall closed again and Veronica studies him for a long moment, before she opens her mouth to speak. She means to say, ' _You won't'_ , but that's not what comes out.

"I love you."

It's only when Logan's eyes snap open and he stares at her in surprise that she realises what she's said. There's one heart-stopping moment when she wishes she could take it back, but the look of wonder and adoration on his face makes her realise she doesn't want to. It's something that's been coming for a long time, something she should have told him ages ago.

"You…?"

Her lips curl up in a soft smile and she lifts her free hand to cup his jaw.

"I love you, Logan," she tells him. "I know I haven't said it enough—or at all—but I do. So much."

He just stares at her for a moment, before swallowing roughly. When he replies, his voice is tight with emotion. "I love you, too, Veronica."

Her heart skips a beat in response to the words. Nine, almost ten years ago, she used to panic when he said them, unable to deal with the depth of his feelings, but now they fill her with warmth and happiness. She rises up, leans in and presses her mouth to his. His lips are soft and warm. She extracts her hand from his, bringing it up to the back of his neck, holding him close, as his arm winds around her.

"I'm not going to try to make you stay," she whispers when they part, mouth barely an inch from his. "I get that this is something you have to do."

"It is," he says, lifting his hand, letting his fingers slide through her hair.

"But, you have to promise you'll be safe, and careful, and that you'll come back to me again."

"I will do everything in my power to make that happen," he tells her sincerely.

He leans in for another kiss, but she stops him. "And promise me you won't go near the liquor again."

He nods, looking at her seriously. "I promise."

She traces the side of his face with her fingers. "You know, you can talk to me about anything, too. Don't think you have to keep all this bottled up."

"I know."

She steps back, entangling herself from his arms and holding out a hand to him. "Come on, let's go to bed."

* * *

Two hours later, Veronica is woken from her much-needed sleep by a muffled noise from Logan's side of the bed. Startled, she turns, finding him curled on his side, his back to her. He's crying.

"Hey." She reaches out, rests her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

He sucks in a shuddering breath, turning to face her. She can only just make out his features in the dim light of the room, but from what she can see, he looks a mess, his eyes puffy and face tear-streaked.

She shifts closer, sliding her arms around him. "It's okay. I'm here. Just let it go."

He buries his face in her neck, holding her tight as he breaks down in her arms.

* * *

Logan watches with a bittersweet smile as Pony plays in the surf. Veronica is lounging beside him on the beach, legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed as she leans back on her hands. The remains of a picnic sit on a blanket before them. It's late Monday afternoon and he leaves for deployment in less than 18 hours.

Since Thursday, since he almost fell off the wagon and Veronica talked him out of it, things have been… confusing. He's been trying to savour the time he has left with her, to make it last, but inside… well, he needs to get back out there, because he can't stop thinking about that glass of whisky, about how good it would feel sliding down his throat—the burn, the satisfying buzz, the pleasure he knows the alcohol would bring.

He needs to get back to the routine and discipline, back into the game again. He knows how much Veronica wants him to stay, but for the sake of his own sanity, he has to go back.

"This is nice," murmurs Veronica, lifting her face toward the warm November sun.

"Yeah," Logan says. "It is."

"So…. the bar exam results are out on Friday."

"This Friday?" Logan asks in surprise. To be honest, with everything going on lately, her bar exam had slipped his mind.

"Yeah." Veronica gives a nod. "And you won't be here to celebrate—or commiserate—with me."

"Veronica—"

"No, don't." She shakes her head, sitting up, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. "That wasn't supposed to be a guilt trip. I just realised how much you're gonna miss while you're away." She sighs. "The bar results, Thanksgiving next week, Christmas, New Year…"

"I know." He reaches across, takes her hand. "And I'm sorry I won't be here. I wish I could be. You're definitely going to be celebrating on Friday though; you won't need anyone to commiserate with you."

She gives a small smile, glancing over at him. "Thanks."

She looks out at the surf again, her eyes on Pony, who is excitedly playing in the waves.

"God, how am I going to raise Pony without you?" she says softly. "You know what happens to puppies who don't have a strong masculine figure around. She'll grow up with daddy issues."

Logan frowns, focusing on the dog.

"Veronica, you know we can do this, right?" He turns to her when she doesn't answer right away. She's looking down at their joined hands. "Well, that's reassuring."

"Sorry. That's not…" She looks over at him, sliding her sunglasses up onto her head. "Look, I know you have to go, and I understand why, but the thought of not being able to see you every day… it hurts."

Logan's heart clenches at her pained expression.

"I know." He shifts, releasing her hand and sliding his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "And it's the same for me, too. Don't think I'm not gonna miss you like crazy while I'm gone."

Pony bounds up to them then, showering them both with water. Veronica points a finger at her sternly.

"Sit." When the puppy simply licks her finger and starts running in circles, she turns to him and says lightly, "You see? She's already acting out. It's a cry for help."

"Very funny," he replies dryly.

He reaches out and catch Pony's collar between his fingers as she tries to dart past him, tugging her close so she's sitting on the other side of him.

"Look," he says when the dog settles down. "Let's just make the most of the next few hours, because we have to spend another two months apart and I want to leave here with fucking good memories, not crappy ones."

She smiles then, a soft laugh escaping her mouth. "Do you mean fucking good memories, or memories of good fucking?"

He grins. "Both."

"Well, okay, then, Lieutenant," she says as she moves away from him and starts gathering their things. "Let's get right on that."

* * *

When they get back to the apartment, Veronica tasks Logan with clearing away the picnic remnants and feeding Pony, while she heads for the bedroom, which he strongly suspects means she has something up her sleeve for tonight. He gets the puppy fed, then starts washing the dishes as a distraction, because if he thinks about what Veronica is planning, he's not going to be able to stop himself striding right into that bedroom after her.

She calls his name a few minutes later and with barely a moment of hesitation, he checks that Pony's okay, then walks over to her bedroom door, opening it slowly and blinking at the sight that greets him.

The lights are turned off and there are flickering candles dotted around the room. She's kneeling on the bed, dressed in the shirt from his service khaki uniform—the same shirt he has to wear tomorrow morning—and the matching cap, her hair tucked up underneath it. Logan's mouth falls open as his gaze rakes over her; he thought nothing could beat seeing her in his dress whites, but this comes pretty damn close.

He tries to say something eloquent, but all that comes out is, "Shit…"

She must take it as the compliment it was intended to be because she grins. "You like?"

"Fuck, yeah." Again with the eloquence.

She crooks a finger at him. "Come here."

Nodding dumbly, he walks over to the bottom of the bed, coming to a stop a foot or so short. Veronica tuts, rising up on her knees and reaching for his belt loops, hooking her fingers in them and tugging him close.

"Geez, Veronica," he murmurs, sliding his hand up to cup her neck. "You walk around looking like that and I'll never leave."

"Well, that was the plan," she murmurs softly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. His eyes follow the movement. "Just wait 'til you see what's underneath."

Logan swallows audibly, heat rushing to his groin as his gaze flicks down to the buttons on the shirt. He feels the sudden urge to rip them off. Except he can't, because it's his uniform shirt and he needs it.

"You know this is the shirt I have to wear in the morning, right?"

"Yep." She smiles, a wicked glint in her eye. "That's the point. Now it's Veronica approved."

 _Shit_ , he thinks. _Now I'm in trouble. I'm gonna have to spend the whole journey surrounded by her._

"Now you just sit back, relax," she says, urging him to sit on the end of the bed. He quickly obliges and she straddles his hips, lowering her mouth to his ear. "And let me show you a good time."

She kisses the spot just below his ear, then tugs his earlobe into her mouth, sucking on it gently and causing him to shudder.

"V'ronica…"

He flattens his palms on her bare thighs, sliding them up under her shirt. He's almost reached her underwear when she slaps his hands away.

"Nuh, uh, not yet," she scolds. "First, this is coming off."

Her hands slip beneath the hem of his polo shirt and his stomach muscles contract involuntarily as fingers glide across his skin. She pulls it up and he helps her tug it over his head.

"And these." Her fingers find his belt buckle and she undoes it quickly, them fumbles with the button of his jeans.

"Up," he says, indicating for her to stand. "Let me."

She slides off his lap and he stands beside her, stepping out of the jeans. Her gaze flicks down to his boxer-covered crotch, biting her lip. Heat pools, throbbing deep in his belly and he swallows.

Her eyes lift to his again, but now there's a predatory glint in them. She pushes at his chest, sending him back down onto the bed. He breaks the fall with his arms, leaning back on his elbows as she climbs atop him, settling in his lap.

This time, he can feel the lace of her panties and the heat of her arousal against his skin and his eyes drop to the buttons of the shirt once more.

"So, do I get to see yet?"

"Nope." She grins.

She leans down so their lips are almost touching, and Logan struggles to keep his upper body supported on his forearms as she closes the gap. Her kiss is soft and tender and full of promise, and it makes his stomach clench with anticipation. She starts kissing a trail down over his chest and he shifts so he's lying down fully. She takes her time, his eyes falling closed as she kisses and licks her way down his body until she reaches the elastic of his boxers. He waits for her to tug them down, to free him, but when nothing happens, he opens his eyes to find her looking up at him with desire. She holds his gaze as she presses a gentle kiss to his arousal, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Fuck…"

She continues to hold eye contact as she cups him through the boxers, stroking gently. Logan watches from under hooded eyes, heart beating fast, breath coming in short pants, as she caresses and teases. Carefully, she releases him from the confines of his boxers, and Logan can't help the moan that escapes his lips in response. He lifts his hips so she can tug the boxers off, but when he reaches for her, she swats him away, instead taking him in her mouth.

"God, Veronica…"

It's almost too much, all this feeling, this sensation. This is the first time since the funeral that their lovemaking has been just about them, in the moment, and not tainted with sorrow or desperation or comfort. He can feel the tension building, prepares himself for the fallout, but just when he thinks she's going to give him the release he's seeking, she stops, sliding back up his body again.

"Wha…?" he mumbles incoherently.

She smiles down at him, expression filled with adoration and love as she reaches for the top button of the shirt. One by one, she unbuttons it, and Logan watches her movements intently, his fingers itching to reach up and do it for her.

When the final button is done and the shirt falls open, Logan sucks in a breath at what he sees beneath: a sexy, red push-up bra, a combination of lace and satin, and a pair of matching panties.

"Wow…" he breathes, reaching out to trace the material with one finger. "Red satin, huh?"

"Yeah… guess Lilly was right."

"She always was."

Veronica slips out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, then lifts the cap from her head. Her hair spills down over her shoulders and Logan sucks in a breath. She looks fucking amazing.

"Come here." He gestures for her and she obliges lowering herself down to him. His hand drifts over her shoulder, pushing her hair back as he cups her neck and brings her mouth down to his. "I love you."

"Love you, too." It feels so good to hear her say it, and to be able to say it to her without worrying it'll scare her off.

He kisses her again, free hand sliding around to her back and fumbling with the clasp of her bra until he manages to unhook it. She slips out of it, then makes her way back down his body again, her hair tickling his stomach as she palms his length, wrapping her fingers around it and giving a long, slow stroke.

"God…" He murmurs in pleasure.

Moving off the bed, she steps out of her panties, then crawls up over him again, positioning herself above him and enveloping him in her tight, wet heat. She feels incredible… too incredible. His eyes widen as he realises why.

"Wait," he says breathlessly. "Condom."

Veronica doesn't move, just shakes her head, her eyes dark and lust-filled. "You're clean, right?"

"Of course."

"So am I. And I'm on the pill." Her voice drops to a whisper as she says, "Logan, I want to feel you. All of you."

Logan frowns, hesitant. "Are you sure?"

It's not like Veronica to throw caution to the wind like this. All the time they were together before, and the last few months as well, she's been insistent on taking any and all precautions, and after what happened to her at that party in high school, he can't blame her.

"Yes, I'm sure," she says firmly, sinking down before he can stop her, taking all of him in.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters as he slides easily inside; the feel of her surrounding him, hot and tight and wet, with no barriers, is unbelievable.

"Oh, holy…" she murmurs, her voice breathy, restrained. "God… yeah…"

Logan lets her take the lead, his hands resting on her hips, as she rocks above him in a slow, steady rhythm. Fuck, it's so much better like this, so much more intimate. He wants to touch her, kiss her, to hold her tight against him, so he snakes one hand up over her back, pressing down, urging her close. She complies, leaning forward enough that he can kiss her, her bare chest brushing against his. The shift in position gives him the opportunity to roll them over, trapping her beneath him.

She whimpers in disappointment when he breaks the kiss and slides out of her, but he simply smiles, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Turn over."

She gives him a slightly quizzical look, but complies, shifting onto her stomach, resting her head on her hands. Logan's gaze roams the vast expanse of smooth, bare skin displayed before him, from her shoulder blades, down to the small of her back and lower still to the curve of her ass. With a grin, he lowers his mouth to the back of her neck, giving a small chuckle when she gasps, then leaves a trail of light, gentle kisses down her spine.

"God, Logan," she murmurs, squirming beneath him when he reaches a particularly sensitive spot.

His hands slide down over the back of her thighs, parting her legs so he can kneel between them. Grabbing a pillow, he urges her up, slipping it beneath her, then lets his fingers slide between her lower lips, brushing her clit, teasing her entrance.

She gasps in response, her hips rocking back, seeking more contact, and Logan grins, settling into position, hands resting on the mattress either side of her. As he slides inside her welcoming body, a hitching gasp escapes her lips, her eyes closing in pleasure. Bracing his elbows on the mattress, he lowers his chest to her back, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"This okay?"

"Uh huh." She nods, eyes still closed. "More than okay."

He begins to move, slowly at first, letting them both get used to the new position, but then faster as they get the hang of it, their bodies sliding together, the sweet tension building. It's not long before she's rising up on her knees, back arched, forearms resting on the pillow, striving to get closer as he kneels behind her, his hands clutching at her hips, stroking deeper with every thrust.

"Oh God. Oh. God. Oh, God," Veronica mutters over and over. "I need… fuck, I need…"

He doesn't really know what she needs, but gathers it's something _more_ , so he curls his hands around her waist and pulls her up so her back is flush with his chest. Supporting her in his lap, her knees slipping either side of his, and not breaking the rhythm of his strokes, he kisses the base of her neck, grinning when she shudders beneath him. His hand finds its way between her legs and she moans when he begins stroking and teasing her clit.

"Not enough," she mutters breathlessly, moving her own hand down, covering his, guiding his movements. "Like this."

Their fingers slide together against her clit and it only takes a few moments before she's arching back against him, her head falling to his shoulder, gasping loudly as the orgasm rips through her.

"Oh, fuck… yes, Logan…right there…"

When her movements slow, her body relaxing against him, he says softly, "You good?"

"Uh, huh…"

"You mind if I…?"

He leaves the sentence hanging, hoping she'll catch his meaning. She simply nods and shifts forward, arms on the pillow, supporting her head as she lifts her bottom, bracing her weight on her knees. He grasps her hips as he straightens and picks up the rhythm again, thrusting long, hard and deep, fingers digging into her skin. She aids his movement, pushing back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, until he tips over the edge himself, spilling inside her.

Spent, he collapses over her, sliding his arm around her waist and shifting so they're curled up together, spooning. He's still inside her, but he can't bring himself to break the contact.

"Wow…" she murmurs breathily.

"Yeah…" It's as articulate as he can get right now.

"That was pretty amazing."

"It was." And apparently he can only manage one-syllable words.

He kisses the back of her neck and she turns in his arms, breaking their intimate connection so she can snuggle close, her arm around his waist and her nose pressed against his chest. Logan reaches for a blanket from the chair beside the bed and tugs it over them.

"God, I'm gonna miss this," she mumbles, her warm breath tickling his skin. "I'm gonna miss _you_."

"Me, too," he agrees, his chest tightening at the thought of having to leave in a few hours. "So much."

Logan glances around the candlelit room. He frowns when his gaze falls on a new picture frame next to the bed.

"Hey, what's that?"

"What's what?" She lifts her head, looking up at him quizzically.

"That photo."

He nods behind her and she turns to look, reaching over and picking up the frame, handing it to him as she settles next to him.

It's a photo of him, in profile, at the beach, watching the waves.

"When did you take this?"

"A few weeks ago—that day we drove up the coast and you dropped me in the ocean."

He winces. "Yeah, sorry about that."

She grins. "Well, at least you rescued the camera, or I wouldn't have this."

"It's a great photo," he murmurs. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm the subject."

"Yeah, it came out really well," she agrees.

"You're really good."

She shrugs. "Yeah, well, my dad always said my photography skills were wasted on cheating spouses and sordid trysts at The Camelot."

"You ever try it for real? Photography?"

She shrugs. "I took a class as an elective when I was at Stanford, but nothing ever really came of it."

"You should give it a go sometime," he suggests. "Might be a nice break from work."

"Yeah, maybe."

Logan places the photo down on the table beside the bed, before sliding his arm around her again and tugging her close so she's pressed against his side. As she drifts off to sleep, Logan casts his eyes to the ceiling.

He knows he's doing the right thing by going back overseas again, he just wishes he didn't have to do it without her. _What I wouldn't give for her to come with me._ Then again, that would be a terrible idea… she would hate being on the ship, not to mention, fraternisation on board is completely forbidden, and he knows from experience—back in senior year of high school—that the only thing worse than being apart from her is having her right there in front of him and still not being able to have her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

As Logan turns away from Veronica in the airport the next morning and heads towards security, deployment papers in hand, he forces himself not to look back, not to get one last glimpse of her, because if he does, he's afraid he won't be able to leave. And he has to; despite how much he'll miss her, he has to go, for the sake of his own wellbeing.

As he moves through security, then walks to his gate, people around him nod respectfully and thank him for his service, but every time he glances down at his service khakis, he remembers how delectable Veronica looked wearing this very shirt just hours ago. Her scent still clings to the material and as he takes a seat at the gate, his thoughts are filled with how incredible last night was. How intense. It's never been quite like that between them before. It's certainly come close, but last night, they reached this whole new level of intimacy, one that makes his every nerve tingle even now.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he fishes it out, a wide grin spreading across his face as he sees the caller ID.

"I miss you already," she says, before he can get a word in.

"Hello to you, too," he replies with a grin.

"Sorry," comes her soft voice on the other end. "I wasn't going to call, told myself not to, but—"

"Couldn't resist?"

"Something like that." She's trying to keep it light, but he can hear a slight shakiness to her tone. "I wanted to hear your voice again."

"I'll be home before you know it," he says.

"I know, it's just…"

"Yeah." _I get it, Veronica. I really do._

"Come home to me, okay?"

He smiles at the words, memories of the last time she said that coming to mind as he replies, "Always."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

They say goodbye and Logan looks down at the picture of her on his phone screensaver as he ends the call, sucking in a shaky breath. _It's only two months. Just two this time._

He glances out of the window; the plane is already parked and waiting, the gate staff printing out the flight manifest. It won't be long now. His phone buzzes again and he can't help grinning at the sight of Veronica's name lighting up the screen once more.

"Two calls in less than five minutes… to what do I owe this honour?" he teases.

"Oh, shut up," she responds in the same light tone. "You know, this wasn't… I mean, my thumb just slipped and I—"

"Whatever you say." Logan bites back a smile.

"God, what is wrong with me?" She sighs. "I'm sorry. I should just go."

"No, don't," he says. "It'll be another twenty minutes before I can board. Keep me company."

"Okay."

Logan's smile widens and he leans back in his seat as her voice floats through the phone, words flowing over him comfortingly.

They don't hang up until he's called to board, and he spends the entire flight to Virginia thinking about her. Her scent on his shirt assaults his senses every now and then, and if he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend she's right here with him.

* * *

It's Thursday morning when he finally arrives on board the ship, and just stepping onto the flight deck feels like home… which is strange, because first off, it's not even the same ship as before, and secondly, he spent most of his deployment earlier this year wishing he could get off the damn thing.

But this is different. This is exactly what he needs right now. As he walks across the deck, toward the ship's main quarters, he can't think about the fact that this very spot is where Bilbo's jet took a nosedive just a few weeks ago. Instead, he focuses on the here and now, on getting back in the air and back into the swing of things.

* * *

"So, you made it there okay?" Veronica asks over Skype Friday morning. "Everything good on the ship?"

Being based in the Mediterranean Sea now, rather than the Persian Gulf, Logan's only ten hours ahead of California time, which makes communication a little easier this time around – for which Veronica is grateful. The connection on the ship seems pretty good too, which is a relief.

"Yeah." He nods. "Long journey, but I made it on board yesterday. Have a day to get adjusted, then I fly tomorrow."

He looks good, Veronica thinks. Tired, but good; handsome, too, in his uniform. There's a brightness to his expression that she hasn't seen in a while—it takes a moment to realise that he hasn't looked that way since he arrived back from deployment.

 _He's in his element there_ , she realises. _He feeds off the adrenaline._

"That's good," she says. "And you're getting settled in?"

He just levels her with a look. "Quit stalling, Veronica. We both know why you called and it wasn't to make small talk."

"I'm not stalling." Veronica denies, though her heart is pounding and her nerves are shot to hell as she focuses resolutely on the screen and not on the sealed envelope sitting on the desk in front of her. "I want to know how you're getting on."

He eyes her suspiciously. "So, there isn't a letter from the California Bar in front of you right now, begging to be opened?"

"What, this letter?" She reaches for it, holds it up. "No, this is just a gas bill."

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief.

Veronica looks down at the envelope, then back up at him, feeling anxious. "What if I didn't pass?"

He shrugs. "Then you take it again. But that won't happen because you studied like crazy and I know you aced it."

"Then again, I'm not even planning to practice law," she hedges. "So maybe I don't even need to open it at all."

"Yes, you do," he says, leaning forward as he gives her a small, reassuring smile. "Come on, rip the Band Aid off."

She exhales slowly. "Okay, here goes."

She tears it open and pulls out the folded letter, heart racing as she unfolds it. She's silent as she reads, taking the words in, her breathing coming faster.

"Well?"

She swallows, looking back up at him. He's sitting forward in his chair, watching her expectantly. She tries to keep her voice steady as she says, "I passed."

Logan breaks out into a wide smile. "Congratulations! I knew you would."

"Yeah." She allows herself to smile in response. "I passed the Bar."

"My girlfriend: the lawyer," he says proudly, before adding, "slash private dick."

"Yeah," she says again. "Well, not quite; I have to take the attorney's oath of office and complete the State Bar registration card first." She scans the rest of the letter. "Says here that there's an admission ceremony in San Diego in a couple weeks."

"That's great." Logan grins. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks."

"Doesn't it feel good to know you've passed the Bar?"

"Yeah, yeah, it does."

It does feel good. Veronica bites her lip as she re-reads the letter again, the words, ' _Congratulations, you have satisfied the requirements for admission to practice law in California_ ' jumping out at her. In a few weeks, she'll be a fully qualified lawyer.

* * *

The next day, Logan takes his first flight from the carrier. It's only a training sortie, since it's been a few months since the last time he took off from and landed on a carrier, and also because the jets they fly from the Truman are the single-seater F/A-18E, not the tandem-seat F/A-18F he's used to flying. That means it's all on him here, no WSO sitting behind.

There's a brief, tense moment as he taxis along the flight deck and visions of Bilbo and crashing jets flit before his eyes, but he clamps down on the fear, locks it away, and concentrates on the here and now. He manoeuvres the jet into position, waits for the catapult to be fitted, and then he's hurtling forward and soaring into the air.

The feeling of euphoria and completeness that envelops him as he handles the plane with ease, sending it shooting up into the sky, is one he embraces. _This_ is what he needed; _this_ is what keeps him sane amidst the horrors and stresses of the job. _This_ makes him feel at home.

And it's not about Veronica or the rest of his life back in Neptune. That's completely different. It doesn't diminish his feelings for her, or mean she is less important to him. It's just, this is his career, his calling, his duty. It's where he was always meant to be. Now if only he could do _this_ , right here, every day, and still go home to Veronica every night, life would be perfect.

* * *

"Congratulations, my amazingly talented daughter," states Keith on Wednesday night, the day before Thanksgiving, as he hands Veronica a glass of sparkling wine and picks up one of his own. "My bar-passing, lawyer daughter."

"Why, thank you, wonderful, loving, _gushing_ father." Veronica smiles, raising her glass to his. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Keith returns the smile, then looks at her more seriously. "I'm so proud of you, Veronica."

"Thank you." She nods, then places her glass down on the kitchen island and begins chopping tomatoes. "But enough about me, let's get this lasagne made."

It's their first solo father-daughter dinner since early July, before Logan returned and started joining them each week. But now he's gone; it's just the two of them again. Since it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, Veronica's going to stay here with him for a couple of days, so they can spend the holiday together.

"What do you think?" Keith holds up a measuring cup filled with mozzarella. "More cheese? Less cheese? Different cheese?"

Veronica looks up, raising an eyebrow. "When is the answer _ever_ less cheese?"

"Fair point."

Keith stirs the cheese into his sauce mixture. They work in silence for a few moments, before he speaks up.

"How's Logan getting on?"

Veronica pauses for a moment, pushing down the emotion that threatens to bubble up in her throat, schooling her features into a neutral expression.

She nods. "He's okay. He's back flying already."

"That's good," Keith said. "I'm sorry about his friend. That's gotta be hard."

"Yeah. It is," she agrees soberly.

Keith frowns thoughtfully, turning to her. "And how are _you_ doing, honey?"

"I'm…" She stops, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm okay. I'm dealing." She shrugs dismissively, determined not to let her emotions spill over into the conversation. "It's only for a couple of months this time. Piece of cake."

Even as she says it, she wonders if it's true.

Before Logan left, she was sure she would be fine; she didn't like it, but they'd already survived six months apart, they could make it another two. What she didn't anticipate was the loneliness she would feel without him. Her apartment seems so empty now, and too quiet, even with Pony to keep her company. Waking up alone, no trace of his warm body beside her, is strange and discomfiting. She misses the sound of him humming tunelessly in the kitchen as he makes breakfast, and the aroma of shampoo and aftershave which always lingers in the bathroom after he's taken a shower. It's taken him leaving again to realise how much she's come to depend on him being there.

"Sweetheart…"

She cringes at the sympathetic tone of her father's voice and shakes her head quickly, clearing her thoughts.

"No, Dad, it's okay." She shoots him a smile. "Let's talk about something else."

"Okay." He nods, though he seems hesitant. "So, you're attending the oath ceremony for the bar soon?"

"Yeah, it's in San Diego on December 7th."

"You have anyone accompanying you?"

"Not yet," she replies. It kind of sucks that Logan's not here, because she would love for him to attend it with her. But no Logan means she can take her dad instead. She smiles at him warmly. "I've been holding out to ask you."

"Me?" Keith holds a hand to his heart in mock surprise. "Little old me?"

"So, what do you say, Pops? Be my date?"

"Of course, honey." He nods. "I'd be honoured."

Veronica puts down the knife and moves across the room to give him a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad."

She pulls back and they share a smile before Keith turns back to the lasagne, putting the finishing touches on it, and Veronica goes back to chopping tomatoes.

The rest of the evening is spent discussing Marcia Langdon running for sheriff and then trying to comprehend the bombshell that is unfolding on TV: that Weevil has decided to settle his case against the Sheriff's Department after all.

Veronica is fuming by the end of the TV press conference. After all the hard work her father's put into the case, after all those months of research and building a case, and he's just throwing it away. And for what? Money?

Her father was almost killed because of it. The whole thing makes her feel sick.

* * *

Thanksgiving on the USS Harry S Truman is something of a strange affair. It's the first time Logan's been deployed over Thanksgiving, but he's been told it's pretty normal to remain on active duty during the holiday period. There's a large dinner being prepared by the chefs and he's heard they're gonna try to show the big game later.

First though, he has a fighter jet to fly and weapons to drop over enemy territory. It's kind of nice though, he thinks, as he flies in formation with three other jets across the Middle East: working on Thanksgiving means he's not sitting around thinking about what he's missing out on back home. He spends his morning feeling the adrenaline rush of flying, the afternoon devouring a big-ass Thanksgiving dinner and early evening taking in the football game.

Midnight finds him holed up in one of the small booths in the computer hub for a late-night Skype date with Veronica… well, it's late for him, but only mid-afternoon back in Neptune.

"Hey," she smiles as she answers the call and Logan can't help but grin at the sight of her on his screen.

She looks great. As usual. From her surroundings, she looks to be in the spare room at her father's house.

"Hey," he returns, swallowing down his instinctive response of, _God, I miss you._

The connection is good again, which he's glad for. The picture's clear and there's almost no delay.

"How was Thanksgiving on the ship today?" she asks.

"It was… odd," he tells her honestly. "I flew a mission this morning, but then we had the usual holiday activities: dinner was tasty, and they showed the game as well."

"Nice." She smiles again, though it doesn't seem to reach her eyes this time. Logan wonders what's wrong. "Glad you had a good day."

"What about you?" he asks, hoping she'll open up about what's bothering her. "Having a good time with your father?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, it's fun. He's good. We're doing three days of the daddy-daughter thing. Just us. I have a Skype date with Lianne and Hunter tomorrow though."

Logan frowns. "Are you okay? You look like something's wrong."

"You're right." She sighs. "It's Weevil's case. It's over. He's settled. Held a press conference and everything."

"Seriously?" Logan's surprised. "But I thought it was looking promising?"

"Yeah, it was." She grimaces. "I'm so pissed at him right now. It's a massive slap in the face. After everything Dad has done for him, and all the work he's put in, it was all for nothing."

"I don't get it." Logan's confused. "Why would he settle now?"

"Dunno. Money, probably. I'm gonna find out though," she says resolutely. "I plan to pay him a visit as soon as the holiday is over."

"Good luck," he tells her. "What about _your_ case? Any new leads yet?"

"No." She sighs. "I'm positive the basketball coach is involved; I just can't prove it yet."

"I'm sure you'll find something soon."

"I hope so." She nods, before pausing and studying him seriously. "I miss you, you know."

He smiles softly. "I miss you, too."

"Our first Thanksgiving together and we're not even on the same continent."

"Yeah, it sucks."

"We'll have to do something special next year."

"Yeah, next year," he replies, and there's a strange flip in his chest at her words.

She's expecting them to still be together in a year? He knows he is—he doesn't plan on letting her go anytime soon… or ever—it's just, well, they've never been any good at the long-term thing before, and she does kind of have a history of running when things get tough. He just doesn't want to get his hopes up too high.

There's a knock on the door on her end of the call and Logan hears Keith's voice in the background.

"Sorry, Logan," she says regretfully. "I have to go. We'll talk again soon, okay?"

"Yeah, soon." He nods. "I'll let you know when I can get online again."

"Great." She smiles, then blows him a kiss. He makes a show of catching it, then blows one back. It's so cheesy, but he doesn't care; she makes him smile. "Bye, _honeybunch_."

The playful sarcasm in her tone makes him grin.

"Bye, _sweetpea_."

* * *

It's over a week before Logan gets a chance to talk to Veronica again, but next Saturday morning finds him sitting in the computer lab, Skyping her. They haven't talked since Thanksgiving and it's early December now. Hard to believe he's been back on the ship for more than two weeks already.

They've been a good two weeks though—things are going smoothly and there have only been a couple of instances where he's felt unsure of himself on landing the jet. Of course, he's still missing Veronica like crazy, keeps waking up in the morning thinking he's back in her apartment and that she's asleep beside him, but he knows he made the right choice coming here. Since he arrived the other week, he's felt more alive, more at peace with himself, deep down, than he has in months. It's freeing, flying missions, breathing in the clean ocean air, having a schedule and briefings and mission planning again. Not that he doesn't enjoy his on-shore job, and being with Veronica, but it's not the same as being out here, serving his country carrying out operational missions.

This morning though, he's more than happy to be sitting in front of the computer, Veronica's beautiful face filling the screen, as he grabs a few minutes to chat with her before he heads to the gym. It's Friday evening in California, and she's sitting at the kitchen counter in her apartment. The lights are dimmed and there's soft music drifting through the speakers. She looks like she's trying for relaxed, but Logan can see tension in her shoulders, and she seems a little distracted. He tries to keep the mood light by relaying an amusing story from a couple of days ago.

"So, we've got this kid running all over the ship asking everyone he meets for 'relative bearing grease'," he tells her gleefully. "And of course, everyone knows what that means—I mean, it's one of the oldest gags in the book—so they're all just stringing him along, telling him stuff like, 'Oh, yeah, I think they have some over in Maintenance.', 'Oh, sorry, we're out, so you'll have to go down to supplies.'"

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, and Veronica gives a small chuckle.

"Anyway, he spends half of his shift looking for the stuff, and he comes back up to the flight deck all excited, and he says to Shepard, 'This ship needs some organisation. You ever think about alphabetising the different kinds of grease, so it's easier to find?' I'd just taken a swig of water. Sprayed it right out of my nose."

"Ah, classic." Veronica smiles, adding airily, "What will you young comic prodigies think of next? Have you tried calling the kitchen and asking if their refrigerator is running?"

Logan smirks. "First of all, it's called the galley, and second of all, you don't want to mess with the chefs. They're already crazy." He gives a lopsided grin. "Anyway, we've all been through it. It's a rite of passage."

Veronica looks like she wants to say something snarky, but then seems to think better of it. "I'm glad it's not just frat boys and Hell's Angels that get all the fun of hazing."

She looks down and Logan frowns. Something's going on with her today.

"How's Pony?" he asks, changing the subject. He strains to see the puppy; he can hear her scuffling around on the floor. "I thought she'd be wearing a saddle by now."

Veronica smiles, angling the laptop downwards until the puppy comes into view.

"Hey, Pony." Logan grins at the sight of her. Despite his initial reservations about getting a dog, he has to admit, he's fallen in love with her. "Who's a good girl?"

She gives a soft bark and starts turning in excited circles, which makes him chuckle.

"Sit," he commands.

The dog sits obediently, which makes Veronica scowl on the screen.

"Damn! I still haven't been able to convince her that I wield the same authority you do," she complains. "Pony, sit."

Logan struggles to contain his laughter as the dog barks, wiggles her bottom and then starts running around the living room. Veronica looks at him in exasperation.

"You see?" she says. "Without you, it's chaos around here."

Logan just grins.

"It's the delicious, fetishistic thrill of military discipline," he says naughtily. "Isn't it, Pony… isn't it, my sweet little kinkster?"

Pony's head turns in the direction of his voice and she gives a soft whine. He smiles, feeling a rush of affection for her. He glances at the clock, then turns back to Veronica.

"Hey, listen, I gotta go in a second. My time's almost up. You sure everything is okay?"

"Me?" She looks surprised… and a tiny bit guilty. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I don't know," he says, trying to puzzle her out. Something's bothering her. "You seem a little out of it."

A blush rises on her cheeks, leaving him wondering what's going on. "Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind, I guess. Maybe I need some of that _severe_ military discipline too."

He straightens, looking at her worriedly. Normally, words like that would send the blood rushing straight to his groin, but something in her tone is off; it's like she's trying too hard.

He's about to question her further when the screen goes black and he realises the connection has dropped. Normally he would try to get back online again, to finish the conversation, but he needs to get in a few miles on the treadmill before breakfast. With a sigh, he logs out of the PC and heads down to the gym.

* * *

Four days later, on Wednesday, Veronica and Keith head down to San Diego for her Oath Ceremony. It consists of an hour-long swearing-in ceremony at the Sheraton, followed by a 'luncheon' at a local seafood restaurant. By two o'clock, they're both back at the office sorting through their cases. It's all kind of underwhelming, to be honest.

The fact that she's a lawyer now doesn't really sink in until that evening, when Mac and Wallace come over to her apartment to celebrate, armed with pizza, beer and movies. An hour later she and Mac are sprawled across her sofa while Wallace has made himself comfortable on the floor, two boxes of half-eaten pizza lying on the coffee table.

"Here's to Veronica Mars, lawyer extraordinaire," Mac says, sitting up on the sofa and lifting her beer bottle for a toast.

Veronica grins as the three of them clink bottles. "You know, I'm not actually going to practice law. This was just a fall-back… you know, a just-in-case option."

"Yeah, we know," says Wallace. "Still, we can celebrate, can't we?"

"Of course." Veronica nods, giving him a smile.

"So, it feels like I've hardly seen you lately, V, not since the whole thing in San Diego with the gym bag." Wallace raises his eyebrows expectantly. "How've you been?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Veronica says. "Things have been busy, with the case and Logan leaving and everything."

"How is Logan?" asks Mac. "He doing okay?"

"Yeah," she says. "I mean, I think so. The last few weeks have been hard on him, but he's coping. He's a lot better now that he's deployed again."

"Really?"

Veronica cringes when she realises what she just said, debating how much she should say to her best friends. Logan hasn't explicitly told her he doesn't want people knowing why he's gone back, but she doesn't want to betray his confidence by blurting out details of his private life either.

"Yeah, I mean…" She thinks quickly. "After something like that happens, you kind of just have to get back on the horse, you know? Get back to the job, and not let your grief or fear prevent you from doing what you need to do."

"Of course." Mac nods, understanding dawning. "Still, it sucks that he has to be so far away again."

Veronica considers not making a big deal of it, but then these are her closest friends. They'd probably see through it anyway.

"Yeah, it really does." She forces a smile, though she's sure her voice betrays her. "But they were short on the ship, and he felt it was the right thing to do."

"Still, he wasn't supposed to leave again for, like, 18 months, right?" Mac looks at her in question and Veronica nods. "Doesn't seem fair."

"No, but what can I do?" She shrugs, then sees them looking at her dubiously, and is quick to reassure them. "Logan has his reasons and I respect them. Besides, it's only for a few more weeks; he'll be home in January. It's fine, guys. Really."

Wallace eyes her sceptically until Veronica fixes him with a warning glare and he looks away.

An awkward silence settles between them, lingering for a few long seconds before Mac clears her throat. "Hey, we're supposed to be celebrating here… let's get this movie marathon started."


	9. Chapter 9

The next couple of weeks leading up to Christmas are busy for Veronica. In addition to picking up a few new clients at work, she finally solves the Grace Manning case. After she finished talking to Logan the other week, she had a breakthrough. Leo D'Amato had no new updates, but her phone call to him gave her an idea and within minutes she'd managed to match the PSU basketball game schedule with the dates and locations of the other escorts who'd been hired by the elusive Mr. Kiss and Tell. Their next game was scheduled for Las Vegas in mid-December, so she and Leo devised a plan to catch Bellamy in the act.

Which is what led her to this moment, dressed in disguise and sitting across from Leo in the Stardust Restaurant in the Mercury Resort. He'd picked her up from her apartment this morning and they drove to Vegas together with the top down on his vintage Mustang. It was an odd ride; Veronica felt strangely out of her comfort zone spending over four hours in a car with her ex-boyfriend-turned-work-colleague while her current boyfriend was serving his country overseas, and although they made casual small talk for most of the journey, she still couldn't fully relax in his company. It didn't get much easier when they booked just one room at the Mercury, watched the PSU basketball match—and Coach Bellamy—on the hotel room TV, then got costumed up and went down to the restaurant, like they were on a date or something.

She keeps her tone light as she jokes with him over dinner. She knows this is just work—for the case—but that doesn't stop the unease she feels as they head back to the room together. Once inside, she pulls off her brunette wig and kicks off her shoes, then opens her laptop as she sits on the edge of the bed. Before dinner, they planted video cameras in the room Bellamy had booked for the night. And there he is, lying on the bed and flicking TV channels. Now it's just a case of sitting back and waiting.

Veronica shifts to the left slightly, gaze fixed on the screen, all too conscious that Leo's sitting right beside her, almost close enough that his thigh is touching hers. She has to admit that they work well together, but she's been noticing him watching her, an expression in his eyes that suggests he wants to be more than just friends, and she's not sure how to take that.

Of course, Leo is easy to talk to, and it would be a lot simpler to be with someone who doesn't get shipped off on deployment for months at a time, but she loves _Logan_ , not Leo. Logan is the one she wants to be with, the one she wishes was lying beside her at night. He's the one she wants to spend her life with.

* * *

They catch Bellamy in the act on camera Friday night, then Saturday night, they find the body of another of Mr Kiss and Tell's victims, Madelyn Chase, buried at the Desert Bluffs golf course.

Leo drives her back to Neptune on Sunday afternoon, which is again a slightly odd experience. They stop at a rest stop near Joshua Tree State Park and eat burgers and fries at a picnic bench, but the conversation takes an awkward turn when Leo breaks the silence with, "You know, Veronica, we're really good together."

She starts slightly, her eyes widening as she feels her cheeks flush. _Good together, as in_ together _together?_ Her thoughts drift to their last couple of days together. She's aware of how he's been looking at her, and she has to admit to feeling flattered by it, but that's as far as it goes. She doesn't want Leo, doesn't feel the same way about him as she suspects he feels about her. She's about to let him down easy when he continues talking.

"You ever think about going legit?" he asks. "You'd have to start on a beat, but you'd make detective in no time. The academy's testing in a couple months."

 _Oh._ _Right_. A relieved sigh escapes her lips. _He's talking about work._

"Me? On the force?" She scoffs. "Can you imagine me reporting to a CO? Come on, D'Amato. I'm a loose cannon. A cowboy cop. A maverick. Besides, just because I'm not legit doesn't mean we can't work together. I think this arrangement has worked out pretty well for both of us." She smirks then." And I'm not sure Detective Veronica Mars, SDPD, would've been quite so willing to play fast and loose with the criminal element."

"Really?" He grins. "Because I'm pretty sure Detective Veronica Mars would be plenty willing. And that might be a problem. But fair enough." He steals one of her fries, popping it into his mouth. She frowns. "Let me know if you ever start dreaming of a pension and actual benefits. It's not all bad, playing by the rules."

That's pretty much the end of the conversation, and while Veronica knows she definitely won't be becoming a detective in the SDPD any time soon—or ever—she can't help but feel glad Leo wasn't coming onto her after all.

* * *

As it's the holiday season, with Christmas only a few days away, Monday is fairly slow at the office. Veronica finishes the paperwork from the case, then goes to see Grace in the afternoon to let her know that Bellamy has been caught and that the case has been solved.

Tuesday night is election night in the race for Neptune's new sheriff. Everyone from Keith's old colleagues and friends, to his old neighbours, to Mac and Wallace, gathers at Keith's house to watch the results on TV. Veronica has just made room for a plate of nachos on the dining room table—which is already covered with food—when the doorbell rings.

She answers it to discover Leo on the other side, wearing a shirt and tie, with a black leather jacket over the top. She opens the door wider and he steps inside.

"Sorry I'm late," he announces himself to everyone. "We win yet?"

"Not yet," says Veronica. "But we haven't lost yet either. Thanks for coming."

"Hey, thanks for having me. Nice spread."

He puts the wine bottle down on the table, waving to Mac and Wallace as he does so. Keith appears from the kitchen with a plate of stuffed mushrooms.

"Detective!" he says when he sees Leo. "Welcome, welcome. Hope you brought your appetite."

"I never leave home without it, sir." Leo grins.

Keith claps him on the shoulder, before returning to the living room.

Leo turns to Veronica, expression turning serious. "How you doing?"

"I'm doing all right," she says. "Apart from the fact that we're about to get four more years of Lamb, I mean."

"Yeah, well." Leo shrugs, his eyes sparkling. "That just means you'll have four more years to give him hell."

Any response she might have given is drowned out by excitement in the living room. It's a tense few moments as the newscaster first says there's no clear election winner, but then announces that the final numbers are coming in and that Marcia Langdon is projected to win.

Around her, the room erupts, but Veronica just stares at the TV screen, watching the no-nonsense expression on Marcia's face as she steps up to the podium. She can't help but wonder what Neptune's going to be like with her in charge of the Sheriff's Department and not Lamb. Since her father left the job, she's only really known a world where a Lamb was in charge.

 _Though, I guess things can't get much worse than they already are. So that's a plus._

* * *

Logan stares anxiously at the PC screen in the computer lab early Wednesday morning. He's supposed to be on a Skype date with Veronica right about now, but she's been at Keith's for the election night party and she's late. He's not sure if she's gonna make it online before he has to go. So, he's twiddling his thumbs and refreshing his emails, just for something to do while he waits.

He grins when the computer pings with an alert and he sees she's just signed in. Without hesitation, he presses the call button. A moment later, the call connects and her face fills the screen. He smiles widely when he sees her.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"I'm here." She smiles, her face slightly flushed. "We have a date, don't we?"

"We do." He nods. "So, what happened? Who won?"

Her smile widens. "Marcia Langdon. Lamb's out."

"Seriously?" He mentally punches the air. _It's about time._ "That's great."

"I hope so," she says, though she seems a little dubious.

"You don't think so?"

"Honestly, I don't know." She shrugs. "I mean, Lamb was a terrible sheriff—as was his brother—but at least we knew how they operated; we knew where we stood with them. Langdon is an unknown. Who knows how Neptune will change now."

"Guess it can't get any worse, right?"

Veronica chuckles. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

She pauses for a moment, then changes the subject. "So, how are you doing?"

"Pretty good." Logan nods. "I'm flying pretty much every day right now—lots going on out here. Which is good; it keeps me busy. I miss you, though."

Her expression softens.

"Miss you, too." She sighs. "It's almost Christmas."

"I know."

She opens her mouth as if to say something, then stops, and seems to change tack. "So, how does it work, Christmas on an aircraft carrier?"

"Well, there's gonna be a lot of food and homemade celebrations," he says. "And they're gonna play video messages from family and friends back home."

"Really?" Her face falls a little. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have sent something."

"It's okay," he assures her. "I get to talk to you live anyway. Plus we're only apart for a few weeks… some of these guys have been out here for months."

"Okay." She nods in acceptance. "Still, I wish you could be here for the holidays… or I could be there."

"Me too," he agrees. "So, what are your holiday plans?"

"Oh." She smiles. "Well, actually, Lianne and Hunter are coming out here for the weekend. They're gonna spend Christmas Day with us at Dad's house."

"Really?" Logan's surprised Keith is up for that, given his history with Veronica's mom.

"Yeah." Veronica gives him a look that tells him she knows what he's thinking. "I wondered too, but he insisted."

"Well, good luck, I guess."

"Thanks." She gives a sheepish shrug, as if she doesn't want to consider that the holiday might be awkward, but acknowledging it probably will be.

He smiles, then remembers the news she divulged in an email a couple of days ago.

"Oh, congratulations on solving your case, by the way."

Veronica visibly relaxes, smiling widely. "Yeah. Feels pretty good to finally know what happened. We caught the coach on camera and everything."

"We?" He frowns.

"Yeah, Leo and I," she clarifies. "He drove us to Vegas on Friday and back on Sunday, used his contacts in the LVPD to get Bellamy arrested and to find Madelyn Chase."

"D'Amato?" Logan clamps down on the jealousy that threatens to rise up in him. "You're working with him again?"

"Yeah, why?" She looks puzzled for a moment, before realisation dawns across her face. "Wait, you're not jealous? Of Leo?"

"Well, you have been spending time with him lately." Logan winces as he says it, knowing how it sounds. "And, you know, I'm, like seven thousand miles away here…"

"Logan…" Veronica shakes her head. "There's nothing going on with Leo. Nothing. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous."

Logan studies her face on the screen for a moment, sensing there's something she's not saying. "But he would like there to be. Right?"

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable. "I think, maybe, yeah."

Logan blanches. _He'd better keep his smarmy hands off her._

"But Logan," she leans forward, looking directly into the camera. "I love _you_. Not him. You're the one I want to be with."

"I know." He exhales. "I know that."

"Listen," she says then. "Get this: on Sunday, when we stopped for food, he mentioned something about us being good together."

"What?" Logan straightens, teeth gritting.

"Wait." She holds up a hand. "It's not what you think."

"Okay…" He nods reluctantly. "Go on."

"So, there I was, trying to find a way to let him down easy, and it turned out he was talking professionally," she continues, giving a roll of her eyes. "He suggested I join the force, go legit and become a detective."

Logan chuckles, his discomfort momentarily forgotten. "Seriously? A police detective? Does he _know_ you?"

"Yeah, can you imagine?" She laughs softly. "Of course, I said, no way. That's not who I am."

"No, it's not." Logan grins, feeling lighter already. "You'd totally break all the rules."

"Exactly." She smiles, catching her tongue between her teeth.

"Though, you know…" he says, thoughtfully, "You'd look hot in the uniform."

"Logan!" Veronica's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in mock offence.

"What?" he returns cheekily. "You can ogle me in my uniform, but I can't do the same to you? Where are the equal opportunity rights in that?"

"I seem to recall you getting in plenty of ogling yourself," she retorts, "and I only need _your_ uniform for that."

 _Yeah, she's got you there_ , he concedes with a shrug. "Okay, point taken."

A wicked glint appears in her eye then and Logan swallows. He knows that look.

"You know, sometimes I wear your uniform when you're not even here," she says, her tone teasing, "and I think about you touching me, and—"

"Stop." He holds up a hand. "For the love of God, stop."

She grins. "You really want me to?"

 _God, no,_ he thinks, _but…_

"Veronica, I'm in public here… and wearing gym shorts," he reminds her. "This is NOT a good time."

"Aww, come on, you gonna ruin my fun?"

Logan frowns suspiciously. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not much," she responds, though her cheeks flush as she says it. "Well, I mean…you know, there was champagne... It was a celebration."

"You don't say." He says, deadpan. "Look, before you get any other dirty ideas, I really have to go. My time is up."

"Aww, baby, don't go." She pushes out her bottom lip in a pout, her eyes sparkling with humour.

He smiles, amused. "Bye, Veronica."

She drops the act, her voice soft as she says, "Bye, Logan."

* * *

Veronica invites Wallace and Mac over for Christmas Eve and they spend the evening eating, drinking and generally being merry. It's after midnight by the time Mac and Wallace bundle themselves into an Uber cab, leaving Veronica alone in the apartment.

She feels a little tipsy—okay, more than a little—as she gets ready for bed, but when she slides under the covers, facing the middle of the otherwise empty bed, it hits her. Loneliness, longing, sadness… all flowing over her like an ocean wave. Her hand covers her mouth as she curls into a ball. She's been doing so well without him so far… or at least she thought she was. She's been keeping herself busy, assuring herself that it's only for a few weeks, that Logan will be home soon… and it's been okay. Until now.

Maybe it's the holiday season making her feel sentimental, or maybe it's those three gin and tonics she's downed, but all she wants right now is for Logan to wrap his arms around her, holding her close. She aches for his touch. Veronica presses her lips together in a futile attempt to keep her emotions in check, but it doesn't help. It bubbles up in her throat as tears form in the corners of her eyes and she can't stop the strangled sob from escaping her lips.

"Logan…" she whispers, tugging the sheets close around herself.

This should have been their first Christmas together, filled with decorations and festivities, copious amounts of food, exchanging presents, holiday sex…. making their own traditions as a couple. But instead, he's seven thousand miles away, flying fighter jets from an aircraft carrier and she's just… well, here, alone in their bed, drunk and emotional. And of course, it's just her luck that her hormones have been all over the place this week. _Damn PMS._ Her period's due in the next few days, which means she's feeling tired and irritable too. Not a good combination.

At least she's not pregnant, though – she knows that much for sure. She had a tense couple of days last month, panicking because she thought she was late—it was right around Thanksgiving, when she Skyped with Logan and he noticed she was distracted, though she blamed it entirely on her annoyance with Weevil at the time—but much to her relief, her period arrived the next morning. She's not sure what she would have done if it turned out she was pregnant… she's just glad she didn't have to consider it.

She still doesn't know what possessed her to take things that far with Logan that night, to forego the extra protection, but the feel of him inside her, with nothing between them… it was best feeling in the world. She's never done that with anyone else before, but she can't explain it; in the moment, it just felt right. It wasn't until the looming possibility of not getting her period that she realised what they'd done, how risky it could have been. From now on, she's pretty sure she's going to be taking all the usual precautions, regardless of how much she wants to go without again.

On the bedside table, her phone beeps with a new email alert. Veronica sniffs and wipes her eyes, before turning over and reaching for the phone. Her breath catches when she sees who it's from and she sits up, opening the message.

 _From: logan .echolls at navy .mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 25th_ _December 2016 00:25 PST (10:25 ship time)_

 _Subject: Christmas Greetings_

 _Veronica,_

 _You're probably asleep right now, but I'm not sure if I'll be online again today, so I'll say this now:_

 _Merry Christmas :)!_

 _I opened your present this morning—thank you—it's perfect :P._

 _I have something for you, too. Check my spare duffle, in the back of the closet :)._

 _Wish I could be there to celebrate with you, but I'll be home soon—should only be about three more weeks._

 _Have fun with your family today—say hi to everyone for me._

 _Love you and miss you,_

 _Logan x_

By the time she reaches the end, Veronica is smiling widely, one hand resting over her heart.

 _Perfect timing, Logan,_ she thinks gratefully. _Just when I needed to hear from you._

She slips out of the bed and goes hunting in the closet for his spare Navy duffle bag. She finds the bag hidden at the back and, as she digs through it, she imagines Logan's reaction to opening her present this morning. She'd tried to go for amusing, thoughtful and useful all at the same time and had settled on a packet of Red Vines, a puka shell necklace she found at a beach vendor's stall—one that reminded her of the one he always wore in high school—and a new USB stick filled with music and movies… and a couple of her own recordings too.

At the bottom of the duffle, Veronica finds a card and a rectangular wrapped box. She reaches for them and settles on the bed. The card shows a festive cartoon involving Santa piloting a plane on the front, while inside, Logan has penned an amusing anecdote about flying a festive display one year. It makes her laugh, her mood improving considerably. Placing the card to one side, she unwraps the present, her eyes widening when she sees the Tiffany's logo on the box.

"God, Logan…" she murmurs. "Tiffany's?"

Hands shaking, she carefully opens the lid, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a delicate, eternal circle necklace is revealed to her gaze.

"Wow…" she breathes, feeling choked up. _It's gorgeous._

Veronica's never been one of those girls with expensive tastes, has never expected to be bought jewellery by men, but this is _beautiful_. Logan has good taste. She just hopes this didn't cost him a small fortune. Not that he can't afford it, it's just… well, she doesn't like other people spending tons of money on her. She's used to paying her own way.

 _Oh, fuck it…_

With a tremulous smile, she extracts the necklace from the box and fastens it around her neck. God, it even _feels_ amazing. She stands, moving over to the dresser to see how it looks.

"Wow," she says again, fingering the delicate silver pendant. "This kinda makes my gift look trivial in comparison."

Taking one last look in the mirror, she turns back toward the bed, grabbing her laptop from the chair, and settling under the covers again. She starts it up and signs into Skype, just in case Logan's still online. He's not, so she composes a reply to his email.

 _From: vmars at g_ _mail_ _.com_

 _To:_ _logan .echolls at navy .mil_

 _Date: 25th_ _December 2016 00:52 PST (10:52 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Christmas Greetings_

 _Logan,_

 _Merry Christmas to you, too :)_

 _Mac and Wallace came over for Christmas Eve celebrations tonight, so I wasn't asleep when you emailed… you caught me just as I'd got into bed, though I guess you're not online now. If you get another chance in the next 24 hours, let me know, and I'll log into Skype._

 _Glad you liked the present—I thought it would be fitting :)._

 _And thank you for mine—it's absolutely gorgeous… I love it. I know I'm always telling you not to spend your money on me, but I think I can definitely make an exception for a necklace from Tiffany's._

 _Wish we could be together today, too. I hope you're having a good Christmas out there though, and you're right—three weeks is nothing… we can make it._

 _Love you back,_

 _Veronica xx_

* * *

Spending Christmas with thousands of Navy personnel aboard a massive tin can in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea isn't exactly Logan's idea of a festive holiday—not that he has much of a frame of reference, given his childhood—and he'd much rather be holed up with Veronica in her apartment, celebrating together, but all in all, it turns out to be a much better day than he anticipated.

In fact, this whole tour has been good for him. Getting back to operational flying, attending mission briefings and actually serving his country on the frontline again has given him the chance to work through his grief over Bilbo and to battle some of his own demons as well. Even after only a few weeks out here, he feels much better, much more at peace with himself than he had before he left California. He's glad it's only a short tour this time though, because having to spend more than a couple of months away from Veronica would be too much, especially as he's going to have to deploy again in a year or so. Yeah, he needed this time to sort himself out, but that doesn't mean he wants to be here forever.

He doesn't see Veronica's email reply until the next morning, but as soon as he reads it, he sends a quick email back, letting her know he's free to Skype if she's still awake. She signs in just a couple of minutes later and he spends the next thirty minutes celebrating a belated makeshift Christmas with her.

It's not the holiday he originally pictured he'd be sharing with her, but it's better than not being with her at all.


	10. Chapter 10

The New Year starts off with a bang—Veronica attends a beach party with Mac and Wallace and counts down to midnight with a beer and her arms around her best friends—but then quickly fizzles to a frustrating lull. Now that the big case is over and done with, she finds herself at a bit of a loss. Not that she doesn't have other cases to deal with, but they're only small, easy ones, resolved within a few days, as opposed to the three-month monster that was the Manning case.

Normally, a break from complicated cases would be a welcome reprieve, but this time, she's anxious to keep herself busy, to take her mind off missing Logan, to stop her counting down the days until he gets home. _Only a couple of weeks to go_. The Truman is due back into Norfolk, Virginia mid-January, then Logan will fly back to San Diego from there.

This deployment has felt different compared with the previous one though. When Logan left a year ago, their relationship had been brand new, pretty much undefined, and as soon as it had started, they were forced apart again, for six whole months. This time, though, when he flew out in November, they'd just spent four months as a couple, four months of practically living together _._

 _Oh, who am I kidding? We_ are _living together._

They're much more stable now—a real couple in a solid relationship. And that changes things.

At least this time around they only have two months to contend with, not six. Still, that doesn't mean she's not spending hours counting down the days, wishing he was home; wishing she would wake up in the morning and he'd be lying right there beside her, wishing she could fast-forward the next few days and have him here with her right now.

* * *

 _From: vmars at g_ _mail_ _. com_

 _To:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 5th_ _January 2017 09:26 PST (19:26 ship time)_

 _Subject: One Year_

 _So, it occurs to me that it was exactly one year ago today that we, uh, rekindled our relationship… so…_

 _Happy Anniversary :)_

 _It kinda sucks that you can't be here to celebrate it with me, but believe you me, we're going to be celebrating when you get back. So you'd better make it home safe and sound in about two weeks, mister._

 _With all my heart (was that too cheesy? God, I'm turning into a sap),_

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail .com_

 _Date: 5th_ _January 2017 20:15 PST (6th January 2017 06:15 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: One Year_

 _My dearest, darling Veronica (see, we can both be cheesy),_

 _Happy Anniversary :)._

 _I'd give anything to be there with you right now, celebrating our one year together, but I will be back soon… these two weeks will be over before we know it and then we can do all the celebrating we desire._

 _Yours devotedly and lovingly (now that has to be crossing the line of cheesiness),_

 _Logan_

* * *

It's getting down to the wire now: Logan's last few days on the carrier. They departed from the Mediterranean Sea yesterday and it'll be about a week's sailing back to Virginia. Logan's feeling a strange combination of eagerness to get home—back to Veronica—and reluctance to leave the ship. Although he's feeling a hell of a lot better than two months ago, and the pain of Bilbo's death and the depression that had been hanging over him before are both now just a dull ache, he's still hesitant to leave the safe cocoon of the ship and venture back to the real world again.

 _Safe_. He snorts at the irony as he looks out over the ocean from his position on the flight deck. God, he flies armed fighter jets from an aircraft carrier—one of the most dangerous things you can do—and yet he considers it safer than being left to his own devices, his own demons, on dry land in Southern California. _You're an idiot, Echolls._

"Hey, Mouth." A voice interrupts his thoughts and he turns his head to see Firefly, a fellow pilot in the squadron, approaching from behind. "What's up?"

"Firefly." He nods, giving her a smile. "What are you doing up here? Thought you avoided the deck when you weren't flying?"

She shrugs, coming to stand beside him, leaning against the ship's railings. "Needed some air… and to get out of the rec room. The guys are going stir crazy down there."

"Yeah." Logan nods. He knows _that_ feeling.

"How're you doing?" she asks, turning to him.

Logan gives a one-sided shrug, keeping his gaze on the ocean. "I'm okay."

"It's been good having you on-board the last few weeks," she says. "We've barely crossed paths since Texas."

"I know."

Logan met Firefly—real name Amy—during OCS and they went through pilot training in Florida and Texas together, but after they got their wings just over three years ago, he got stationed at NAS Lemoore and she ended up at NAS Oceana in Virginia. She's one of only a handful of female fighter pilots in the Navy, but while the military is gradually becoming more progressive and diverse, it's still very much a male-dominated profession.

"Shame it's not under better circumstances though," she adds. "We all miss Bilbo. He was a great pilot, and a good friend too."

"He was the best."

Logan closes his eyes for a moment, although the mention of Bilbo doesn't bring the overwhelming feeling of grief he would have felt a few weeks ago. It still hurts, of course, but it's not the sharp pain it was before.

"Looking forward to getting home?"

"Definitely," he says, with a small smile. "You?"

"God, yes." Firefly grins. "Six months cooped up on here with these guys? I'm in need of girl talk and good old pampering."

Logan gives a chuckle. "You know, sometimes I forget you're not just one of the guys. You might act all tough and no-nonsense on duty, but underneath, you're a total girly-girl."

"And I make no apologies for that." She nods, shooting him a grin. "It's not just the pampering though—I'm also in desperate need of some Nick loving." She sends him a sideways glance and a cheeky wink. "It's been a _long_ six months."

Logan laughs out loud at that. "Your husband isn't gonna know what hit him."

"That's the plan." She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, before sobering. "What about you? Got big plans with Veronica when you get back?"

Logan can't help the wide smile spreads across his face. "Oh, I've got something planned all right."

"Yeah?" says Firefly, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.

"Oh, I'm not telling you, so don't even try," he retorts playfully.

She studies him for a moment, before speaking. "You seem happy now… content."

Logan nods, smiling. "I am."

"I'm glad," she says. "After what happened with Penny in Texas… and then Bonnie DeVille last year—yeah, I saw the tabloids—" she adds when he looks at her in question. "You deserve some happiness."

"Thanks."

"I think it's great you found her again," she adds. "Veronica, I mean. You were clearly still hung up on her back then."

"Yeah. I love her. Always have," he says. "Can't wait to get back home to her."

"Same for me with Nick."

Logan sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fuck, this is gonna be the longest week."

"Tell me about it."

* * *

"More ice cream, Veronica?" asks Keith from the kitchen area on Wednesday night, as he stacks their dinner plates in the dishwasher.

Veronica glances at her watch. It's already after nine p.m. and she needs to be heading home soon. Logan's plane lands tomorrow afternoon and she wants to get an early night, plus she still needs to tidy the apartment before he gets back.

"No, thanks, Dad," she declines. "I'm good."

Keith stops and turns around, looking surprised. "You're good? Did I hear that right… my dessert-loving daughter is turning down ice cream?"

"Very funny," she retorts. "No, I would, but I should be getting back."

"Already?"

He moves back to the dining table, checking his phone as he sits down. Veronica frowns; he's been on the phone a lot this evening and, combined with how much he's been talking about the newly-elected Sheriff Langdon, she wonders if maybe there's something going on between them.

"You sure you can't indulge your poor, lonely father for a little longer?"

"I really shouldn't…" He's looking at her pleadingly and she finds herself relenting with a sigh. "Okay, fine. More ice cream, it is."

"Coming right up."

As they tuck into their second bowls of ice cream, Keith speaks again, "So, Logan's back tomorrow?"

From her bed in the corner of the room, Pony's head perks up at the mention of Logan's name and she gives a small whine.

"Yep." She tries to keep from grinning. "His flight's due into San Diego late afternoon."

"You meeting him at the airport?"

"That's the plan." She nods, leaning down to stroke Pony's head when she pads over to the table.

"Looking forward to him being home?"

"Definitely." Veronica smiles, then pauses, looking at Keith in bemusement. "What's with all the questions tonight?"

"Oh, no reason," says Keith lightly. "Just interested in your life, honey."

His phone pings with another message and he looks down, reads it, then types a quick reply.

"Are you, like, having an illicit affair or something?" Veronica teases. "You've been glued to that phone all evening."

"What?" Keith looks up, expression very slightly guilty as he places the phone back down on the table. "No. No, of course not."

"Hmm." She's not sure she believes him. "If you say so."

"You done with that?" Keith changes the subject, nodding toward her now empty bowl.

"Yeah."

"Great." He stands again, collecting the bowls and heading for the kitchen again. "Guess you should be going soon then—it's getting late."

"Isn't that what I said just a few minutes ago?" Veronica teases. "You know, when you told me I had to stay and have more ice cream?"

"Did I?" Keith turns his back to her and adds the bowls to the dishwasher.

 _Yeah, something's definitely up tonight_. She stands, reaching for her bag and pulling out Pony's leash, fastening it to the dog's collar.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" She approaches her father, who turns so he can give her a hug. "Thanks for dinner, pops."

"My pleasure, sweetie."

* * *

Veronica's emotions are all over the place by the time she pulls the car up outside her apartment block twenty minutes later. This is her last night alone. Logan's gonna be home tomorrow; in less than 24 hours, he's going to be right here with her.

"Come on, Pony," she says to the puppy, who was previously curled up on the backseat, but is now sitting tall and alert. "Just you and me for tonight, then Daddy will be home."

She barks excitedly at that, licking her outstretched hand. Climbing out of the car, Veronica adjusts the bag on her shoulder, then opens the door for the dog, who bounds out onto the concrete, then tugs on her leash all the way up to the apartment. When they get to the door, Pony starts making whining noises and scratching at the door as Veronica digs around for her keys.

"Hold up a second, Pony," she mutters, her fingers closing around the keys as she drags them out. "Anyone would think _you_ were the one who hasn't been home in two months."

It takes a moment to unlock the door, but the second it's open, Pony bolts forward, barking loudly, her leash slipping from Veronica's fingers.

"Pony, what's the hurr—?"

Veronica stops, freezing in her tracks, eyes wide as she takes in the scene before her. There, in the middle of her living room, petting an excited, bounding Pony, is—

"Logan?"

 _He's here… he's really here_.

Her bag slides from her shoulder and drops to the floor, as the door swings closed behind her.

"Oh my God!"

He looks up at her from his crouched position, a crooked smile on his face. "Hey, Veronica."

"What—? I mean… how—?" She struggles to form a coherent sentence, her heart racing. "I thought you weren't back until tomorrow?"

He stands, takes a step toward her, the side of his mouth pulling up in that half-smile she loves so much.

"I flew the jet back to base ahead of the ship," he explains. "Arrived in Norfolk this morning, took the next flight back to San Diego."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she says. "I could have come to the airport."

He grins. "I wanted to surprise you."

She laughs softly. "Mission accomplished."

He takes another step across the room. "I had it all perfectly timed and everything; even had a bit of help."

"You did?" She frowns, something occurring to her. "Wait… that was _you_ my dad was texting earlier?"

"Yep." His grin turns smug as he moves closer still.

"And I thought he had some secret girlfriend or something," she muses. "I should have known better."

"Yeah."

"That sneaky—"

"Veronica?" Logan interrupts, his voice soft and amused.

"Huh?" He's right in front of her now, towering over her, tall and broad-shouldered in his service khakis.

He leans in, smile playing on his lips as he murmurs, "Shut up."

Then his hands are cupping her face and his mouth is on hers, warm and familiar. A soft sigh escapes her lips, her arms winding around his neck as she rises up on tiptoes. He smiles against her mouth, his arms coming around her, hands sliding down to her lower back, tugging her close. He walks her backwards until she's pressed up against the apartment door. Automatically, she jumps up, legs around his waist, and his hands move around to the backs of her thighs to support her. As she clings to him, one hand cupping the back of his head, the other flat against his back, realisation fully dawns.

He's _here_. Logan's here, in the flesh. He's _home_. Finally.

That's all it takes for all the emotions she's been suppressing to bubble up and spill over. Her eyes fill with tears and the tell-tale tightening in her chest gives way to a hiccupping sob, muffled by Logan's mouth.

He pulls away, looking at her in concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Veronica just shakes her head, not trusting her voice.

Logan shifts her slightly, freeing one hand. Lifting his fingers to the side of her face, he tucks her hair behind her ear in such a familiar and tender gesture that it just makes her cry harder.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmurs softly, holding her to him.

Carefully, he manoeuvres them away from the door, carrying her over to the couch and sinking down into the cushions. She's sitting in his lap now, straddling his hips, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she buries her face in his shoulder. Logan's hands stroke up and down her back in comfort as he murmurs softly to her.

Taking a steadying breath, she finally lifts her head. She's sure she must look a mess, with tears streaming down her cheeks and puffy eyes, but Logan's just looking at her tenderly.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I didn't mean to… it just kind of hit me, you know? That you're really here."

"I am."

He smiles, lifting his hands to her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks, collecting the tears that are sliding down them. Veronica's fingers curl around his wrists.

"God, I've missed you so much," she says then, unable to stop the words from spilling out.

"I've missed you, too," he returns, studying her seriously for a moment, before adding, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Come here." His hands slide under her hair, cupping her neck and tugging her close.

He kisses her again, long and slow, and it takes her breath away. Her fingers tighten around his wrists, holding him there, not wanting it to end. Except Pony chooses that exact moment to jump up onto the couch and try to furrow between them. Veronica breaks away with a breathy chuckle.

"Hey, girl." Logan extracts a hand from Veronica's hair and her grasp, lowering it to ruffle Pony's fur. "Don't worry, I missed you, too."

"And she's definitely missed you," says Veronica. "The first few days, she didn't know what to do with herself. I kept finding her sitting by the door, waiting for you to walk though."

"Poor girl." His hand slides under the puppy's jaw, tilting her head up towards him. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Veronica hides a smile as she affects an offended tone. "Oh, so _she_ gets the 'sweetheart' treatment?"

Logan raises an eyebrow as he looks at her sceptically. "You hate cutesy pet names. Pony's the only one who'll let me get away with it."

She drops the act, mouth widening into a grin. "Yeah, good point."

With the hand still cupping her neck, Logan urges her forward for another kiss.

"Believe me," he says softly, "if I thought I _could_ get away with it, I'd be using every manner of cutesy pet name on you."

Veronica smiles, pressing her free hand to her chest. "Be still my beating heart."

Logan gives a low chuckle, resting his forehead against hers. "It's getting late, and I've had a long day. Let's go to bed."

"Okay." She gives him a quick kiss, then slides off his lap and urges the dog off the couch. "Come on, Pony."

Logan stands, picking up his duffle and heading down the hall, while she takes Pony out and locks up the apartment for the night. By the time she's washed up and makes it into the bedroom, Logan's already in bed.

Veronica stops short at the sight of him, propped against the pillows, chest bare and a soft smile on his face.

"What?" He looks amused.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "Just… you're here."

"Yep." He grins.

"I don't have to sleep alone anymore."

"You don't."

She smiles, stepping out of her pants, then pulling the sweater over her head, before moving to the bed clad in a tank top and a comfortable pair of boy shorts.

"It's not the sexiest of nightwear," she says apologetically as she slides under the covers. "Wasn't expecting you back yet."

Logan shifts, fluffing the pillows as he slides down in the bed. He reaches for her, curling an arm around her waist as she snuggles up beside him.

"Come on, you know I don't care what you wear." He murmurs, nuzzling her neck. It makes her shiver. "It's _you_ I love."

"Well…" She grins, sliding her leg over his and letting her fingers lightly trail across his chest. "You say that now… but next time you beg me to put on your uniform, I'll remind you of this very conversation."

"Hmm…"

She leans over, dropping gentle kisses to his warm, bare skin as her hand slides across his torso. She revels in the fact that he's warm and solid, and very much _present_ , beneath her touch.

"Mmm…" he mumbles in content.

"Love you," she whispers.

This time, she's met with silence.

"Logan?"

She lifts her head to find him fast asleep. She shakes her head, giving a wry smile, before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Sleep well, Lt. Echolls," she murmurs softly as she settles down beside him, draping her arm around his waist and closing her eyes.

* * *

When Logan wakes the next morning, it's sudden and jarring, the sunlight pouring through the window strange and unfamiliar. His body clock is still screwed, and for a moment, he has no idea where he is. But then he becomes aware of a warm, female body beside him and he remembers: he's home, in Neptune, with Veronica.

"Hey."

He turns his head to find her watching him with a lazy smile.

"Hi," he whispers, shifting onto his side to face her. "Morning."

"Good morning." Her smile widens. "Sleep well?"

"Yep." He nods.

She reaches out, touching her fingers to his chest. He inhales at the contact.

"You know," she murmurs, shifting so she can kiss him gently. "You fell asleep on me last night."

 _I did? Oops._

"Sorry." He cringes. "The jet lag's a bitch."

"It's okay. You were tired, you needed to sleep," she says. "Besides, you're awake now… and we have the whole day to ourselves."

He smiles, leaning in for a second kiss, his thumb tenderly brushing her cheek, before pulling back and looking at her questioningly.

"You're not going into the office?"

Veronica shakes her head.

"What do you think? You just got back; I'm staying right here with you."

They kiss again, more deeply this time, morning breath be damned, and Logan groans when Veronica's body presses fully against the length of his.

 _God, I've missed this._

"Hmm, you know," Veronica murmurs when they part, her fingers stroking down the side of his face. "It's been a long two months, you've been back nearly twelve hours, and we haven't even done it yet. I think we should do something about that."

Logan grins, heat shooting to his groin. "Yeah?"

"Definitely."

She smiles, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before sitting up and grabbing a condom from the bedside table. Handing the square packet to him, she pulls off her tank top, then shimmies out of her panties, leaving Logan staring at her, open-mouthed.

 _Geez, Echolls, it's almost like you haven't seen a pair of boobs in… well, in two months._

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asks cheekily.

Logan blinks, then springs into action, tugging off his boxers and rolling on the condom.

"Come here." He reaches for her, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her to his side, back to their previous position.

He sucks in a shaky breath when she snuggles in close, hugging him as she slips her lower leg between his, then hooks the other over his hip.

"Geez…" Logan groans, arms coming around her as his arousal presses against her intimately, the contact sending tingles right through him.

Veronica shifts, rocking her hips and taking him inside. _Fuck, Veronica, you feel so good_.

"I do, huh?" she says breathily.

 _Shit, did I say that out loud?_

"God, yeah," he mutters, starting to move with her. "It's been way too long…"

"It has."

Veronica kisses him deeply as they rock together, the position incredibly intimate. It's not the frantic, passionate homecoming sex he's been fantasising about for the last two months… but, right now, that doesn't even matter, because this, right here, is even better. They move together, slow and steady, all the while kissing and caressing and reacquainting themselves with each other, and it's fucking amazing.

All too soon, he feels the tell-tale tightening in his stomach and realises that while he's close, Veronica has yet to come. Snaking one hand between their bodies, he brushes his fingers over her clit and she gasps, hips bucking in response.

"Yeah…" she breathes, her head falling back against the pillow, upper body angled away from him.

"That's it," he says encouragingly. "Come for me."

"Love it when you talk dirty," she mutters between breathy pants, though Logan can hear a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

He grins, increasing the pressure on her clit as he thrusts a little deeper this time. She gasps, back arching, her inner muscles contracting around him. As she recovers, she reaches for him, tugging him down for a kiss, which he takes as his cue to shift positions, urging her onto her back and settling over her. Her legs lock around his waist as her arms slide beneath his, hooking around his back, hands coming to rest over his shoulder blades. Logan sets a steady rhythm, supporting his weight on his forearms on either side of her as he thrusts deeply, trying to bury himself as far inside her as he can. And when he comes, spilling himself inside her, he feels an overwhelming sense of wholeness, of rightness, of _peace_.

While these last two months on the ship have been just what he needed to sort himself out, to come to terms with Bilbo's death, it's _this_ , being right here with Veronica, intimately entwined with her, that really makes him complete.

* * *

Veronica can't stop smiling as she walks leisurely along Dog Beach with Logan after lunch. Her head rests just below his shoulder, right arm wrapped around his waist, left hand pressed against his side. Logan's arm is looped around her shoulder, keeping her close while he holds onto Pony's leash. Veronica feels almost giddy, having him back; it's like a weight has been lifted from her chest and she can breathe properly again. She can see the difference in Logan as well; the tension he was carrying before, and the aura of sadness that had surrounded him after Bilbo's death, seem all but gone now.

"Mmm…" She sighs contentedly.

"You good?" His voice is soft.

"Definitely."

"I missed this," he says. "You, me, and Pony, hanging out at the beach."

"Me, too."

Veronica stops and turns to him, resting her hands on his chest as she rises up and presses her lips to his in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, she finds him looking down at her with that intense, serious expression of his, the one that always makes her feel like he can see right through her. She gives a small smile, then slides her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, the length of her body pressing against his.

"Hey…" he murmurs, his arms coming around her in response. She can feel Pony's leash, still in his grasp, pressing against her back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," She nods against his shoulder. "Just enjoying being able to do this again."

"I know the feeling."

They stand together, arms around each other, for a few more moments, until Pony gets restless and starts tugging on her leash.

Veronica laughs, pulling away from Logan and glancing down at the dog, who is looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Sorry, puppy, are we ignoring you?"

Pony answers with a soft bark, then paws at Logan's leg.

"Guess we'd better keep walking, huh?" he says, grinning as he bends down to tickle behind her ear.

Logan stands, slipping his hand in Veronica's and linking their fingers. She curls her free hand around his forearm as they start moving again, wanting to keep as much contact as possible. She's being clingy, she knows that, but she can't seem to help it. Before he left, she'd gotten used to him being here all the time, and then he was just… gone. And that hit her harder than she'd expected it to, especially over the holidays.

"You're quiet." Logan's voice breaks through her thoughts. "At the risk of sounding cliché, what are you thinking?"

"Nothing." Veronica smiles, giving a shake of her head. _No need to bring the mood down with my maudlin thoughts._ "Just how glad I am you're home."

"Me too, Veronica." His fingers tighten around hers. "Me, too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the long wait between updates. I'm back from vacation now, so here's the next chapter... thanks for being patient :).

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

"So, I've been thinking," starts Logan, pouring syrup over his pancakes on Sunday morning.

"Don't hurt yourself," quips Veronica, shooting him a grin as she takes the syrup bottle from him and douses her own plate.

They're having a lazy day, lounging in bed until mid-morning before shuffling into the kitchen half an hour ago for a late breakfast. Logan smiles at the sight of her, clad in one of his oversized sweaters—way too big on her and sliding off one shoulder—and nothing else. She looks great.

"Very funny," he retorts, narrowing his eyes at her across the counter, before forging ahead. "Look, I've been thinking, and…you know, maybe we could… well, l mean, my initial lease was up last month, and, you know, I barely spend any time there anyway, and—"

"Logan." Veronica holds up a hand to stop his nervous rambling. "What are you getting at?"

He takes a steadying breath, speaking more slowly this time.

"I was thinking, maybe it's time we make this official." He gestures around the apartment. "I mean, we're pretty much living together already. It would make sense to do it properly."

Veronica just looks at him for a moment, her expression giving nothing away, before she gives a shrug. "Okay."

"Okay?" Logan blinks. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," she says, taking a bite of pancake. "Sure, why not?"

"Wow." He can't quite believe this is so easy. "I thought for sure I was going to have to talk you round. I was prepared to do a lot of persuading."

Veronica puts down her fork and leans forward on the counter, lips curling up in a soft smile. "Logan, I had a lot of time to think while you were away this time. I know you were only gone two months, but it was almost harder to get through than before."

"Veronica, I—" He starts to apologise, but she cuts him off.

"No, this isn't supposed to be a guilt trip. It's just... I'd gotten used to you being here all the time, and then you were just… gone." She shrugs, looking down for a moment. "The apartment felt so empty, and lonely, without you here, and it made me realise I don't want that."

She slips off her stool and comes to stand in front of him, sliding her arms around his waist. He does the same as she looks up at him.

"Besides, you're right," she admits. "We _are_ living together. I just wasn't ready to put a label on it before."

"But you are now?"

"I am." She smiles. "Lt. Echolls, I want to _officially_ move in with you."

"Okay." He grins, heart doing a small flip in his chest. "Okay, then."

He lowers his head as she tilts hers up, and their mouths meet in the middle. She tastes sweet, her lips sticky with syrup, and it only fuels his desire for her. Within moments, their plates have been pushed to one side, pancakes forgotten, and Veronica's perched on the counter, legs tight around his hips as he thrusts into her.

 _God, it's so good to be home._

* * *

"So," says Veronica softly as she turns on her side in the bed an hour later. Logan mimics her position, so they're facing each other. "How are we going to do this?"

"What do you mean?" He reaches out, tucking her hair behind her ear and she can't help but smile at the familiar gesture.

"This living together thing," she clarifies.

He looks confused. "Aren't we already doing it?"

"No, I mean…" She shakes her head, sliding a hand beneath her cheek, supporting her head. "If you give up your apartment, what are you going to do with all your stuff? This place is tiny; there's barely enough room for my things, let alone yours, too."

He smiles like the answer should be obvious. His expression is both tender and amused as he says, "Well, maybe we could get our own place? Not yours, or mine, but _ours_."

Veronica's heart rate increases at that; her instinctive reaction is to shy away from such a commitment, but then she relaxes, telling herself not to be so stupid. _This is what you want, remember?_

"We could." She nods.

"Someplace bigger, with more rooms, and storage space… maybe on the beachfront…"

"That sounds nice." Veronica returns his smile for a moment, then frowns. "But, Logan, a place like that is expensive…"

"So?" He shrugs. "We can afford it."

"Maybe _you_ can, but I can't," she says in a small voice. "Logan, you know I don't like taking your money. I want to be able to pay my own way."

"You can," he insists. "You pay what you can afford and I'll make up the difference. It's not a big deal."

She shakes her head. "But it wouldn't feel right."

"Veronica…" Logan cups her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I understand you want to keep your independence, but we're in this relationship together. What's mine is yours, okay?"

Veronica inhales shakily, feeling a little overwhelmed. She quickly masks it, attempting a feeble joke, "Thought that only applied if you were married?"

It backfires though, because he just looks at her, his lips twitching into a small smile as his eyes bore into hers. Veronica suddenly feels sick, stomach twisting in response.

"Oh, God, you want to get married."

His thumb strokes her cheek as he gives a one-shouldered shrug. "Well, I wouldn't be opposed."

"Right…" she murmurs faintly, unsure how to feel about that.

"Only if you wanted to, of course," he adds quickly. "No pressure. Just, maybe… someday."

Veronica swallows. "You've seriously been thinking about this?"

"Well… it's crossed my mind once or twice," he admits. "But you said once that you never wanted to get married, so I just…"

He trails off, giving another shrug.

She sighs. "God, Logan…"

"Look, before you dismiss the idea completely, you should know that if we _were_ married, you'd be entitled to things—"

"Yeah, a ton of money," she interrupts, looking down. "Got it."

She doesn't want his money; never has. No way she would marry him for it.

"No, that's not what I mean," he says, finger sliding under her chin, urging her to look at him again. "I'm talking about military benefits."

He pauses for a moment, studying her seriously, before continuing.

"Look, right now, as my girlfriend, if something were to happen to me, you wouldn't get anything at all," he says gently. "Not even a phone call to break the news. But if we were married, you would be entitled to things: you would be my beneficiary if… well, you know… and you could have legal Power of Attorney. Not to mention, you'd get benefits like family separation allowances when I deployed, and healthcare coverage, shopping discounts… all kinds of things."

Veronica takes that in, her mind reeling.

"Remember what I said about going back to the ship, about not having ties? This is what I meant." he continues softly, thumb stroking her cheek again. "Right now, in the Navy's eyes, I'm single. I don't get any entitlements or special considerations because of my relationship with you. If I was married, though…"

He trails off, his meaning clear.

"Right… yeah, of course," she murmurs faintly. "Benefits."

"Like I said, no pressure," he says. "It's just something to think about."

"Yeah…"

Veronica shifts onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, head spinning. All this time, she's dismissed marriage as a recipe for heartbreak and disappointment, but maybe Logan kind of has a point here.

The thing is: does she even want to get married? Can she see herself becoming someone's wife? Logan's wife? She genuinely doesn't know.

But what she _does_ know is that she wants to be with him. She can't picture her life without him in it, not now they've found each other again.

"Hey," Logan says from beside her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She nods absently, then rolls onto her other side and slips out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Veronica…" Logan's voice sounds from behind her, but her mind's too full with all this new information to really register it.

She needs to think.

* * *

The rest of the day, the atmosphere is tense, or at least that's how it seems to Logan. Veronica claims she's fine, but he's worried he scared her off earlier. He didn't mean for it all to come out like that, but he had to be honest with her, and she needs to know what her options are.

Truth is, he hasn't really considered getting married in any serious capacity; it's not like he actually has anything planned, but seeing all his squadron-mates with wives and kids, seeing Bilbo's widow and his son grieving for him at the funeral, well… it's got him thinking lately. Deep down, he has to admit that it would be pretty fucking cool to be married to Veronica, but if she doesn't want to, he's not going to push.

"Veronica?" he calls, pulling on his jacket. "You ready?"

They're going out for dinner and a movie, but she's been holed up in the bedroom, getting ready, for the last twenty minutes.

"Just a minute," she replies, voice slightly muffled by the closed door.

Logan checks that Pony—who is asleep in her bed in the corner—is all set up for the night, then turns when he hears the click of Veronica's shoes on the hardwood floor.

"Wow, you look nice," he says appreciatively.

Her outfit is a combination of feminine and street-wise: short skirt, floaty top, his favourite black leather jacket and heeled, knee-high boots.

"Thank you." She returns the smile, slipping her bag over her shoulder and walking over to him. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Veronica…" he tries, but she moves to the door, pulling it open.

"Come on, let's go."

The ride to the restaurant is... odd. The silence isn't tense, exactly, but Veronica isn't talking and Logan's struggling to read her. She seems almost too calm, and it's weirding him out. He glances over at her a couple of times as he's driving, but she's either looking out of the window, or she catches his eye and gives him a small smile… though that doesn't do much to ease his worry.

It's not until they're seated at their table in the back of the small Mexican place Veronica's chosen that she finally speaks, looking up from the menu in her hands and leaning towards him.

"For the record, I'm not ruling it out."

"Huh?" It takes a moment to grasp what she means.

"What you said earlier, about, you know, getting married," she clarifies. "I just want you to know that I'm not ruling it out."

"Okay." He keeps his voice as steady as he can, though inside, his heart is pounding.

"I mean, it would make a lot of sense, with the Navy stuff and everything," she continues, reaching across the table and covering his hand with hers. "And after this last year together, I can't imagine being without you again."

"Me either," he says, feelingly.

She nods, giving a small smile, before turning serious. "But the thing is, I don't know if… I mean, it's not something I'm ready for right now. I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready, to be honest, but—"

"Hey, it's okay," he assures her softly. "I get it. Look, this morning… I wasn't suggesting we go book a chapel or anything, I just wanted you to know what it would mean if we ever did decide to get married."

"I know." She nods in understanding. "Thank you."

"But, this moving in together thing…" he says then. "We can still do that, right?"

"Yes, we can," she says, her voice soft.

"Okay…" He smiles, relief flooding through him. "In that case, you wanna go house-hunting this week?"

"Sure." She smiles. "Let's do it."

* * *

"I like this one," Veronica murmurs to Logan as the real estate agent walks away, down the hallway of the small condo they're viewing, giving them some space.

It's Thursday afternoon and the first chance they've had to look at places together. Logan still has a few days of post-deployment leave left, but Veronica has acquired a new case which has kept her out working more often than not this week.

"Really?" He scrunches his nose. "It's a bit… small, don't you think?"

He's right, it _is_ pretty compact, with a tiny open plan kitchen-living room, two bedrooms—one regular-sized, one barely bigger than a box—one bathroom and something that barely even qualifies as a patio area at the back.

"No, it's just… cosy," she says, unsure if she's trying to convince him, or herself.

"Veronica." Logan stops her with a hand on her arm. "Come on, be honest. You only like this one because it's cheap."

"No." She's quick to protest. "That's not… the only reason."

"Can you seriously see us living here?" he asks. "It's barely bigger than your apartment."

Veronica glances around the apartment again, then gives a relenting sigh. "Yeah, I guess not."

"You need to get over the money thing, okay?" He tugs her close, letting his fingers run along her cheek. "If it helps, I won't even be using my inheritance for this, my portion of the rent will be coming right out of my hard-earned Navy salary."

"Yeah?" That does make it seem a little better.

"So, it's not like you're being 'kept' by your millionaire boyfriend, okay?" he says. "We can just be two, normal, hard-working people, both paying towards the household expenses, but it just so happens that one of us is able to contribute a bit more than the other."

Veronica sighs, shaking her head. "Okay, fine."

"So, we're agreed… this place is a 'no'?"

"Yeah, we're agreed."

"Okay, then, let's tell the agent we want to check out the next place." He slips his hand in hers, leading her back through the condo. "And no more thinking about the money, okay? We're going to find a place based on what we like, not how much it costs."

Within minutes, they're in the car and heading to the next place—a three-bedroom, single-storey beach house along the more upmarket end of Dog Beach.

The moment she steps inside, Veronica knows this is the one. It's open and spacious, and has this great homey feeling about it. She turns to Logan to find him smiling widely.

Leaning in close, she murmurs, "Me likey."

He nods. "Me, too."

Like the previous condo, this one is also open-plan, but is much roomier and the furnishings much, much nicer. The living area has a fireplace, and French doors that open out onto a large patio area, where she can make out a stone barbecue and plenty of space for outdoor furniture… not to mention, they have their own private beach. The kitchen has all the latest mod-cons and is separated from the living room by a large, marble-topped island. It's lovely.

"Let me show you the bedrooms," says the agent. "Follow me."

She leads them down to the back of the condo, where three bedrooms and the bathroom are located.

"Okay, this is the master," she says, gesturing for them to enter the room. "As you can see, it's very spacious—"

Veronica tunes out the marketing spiel as she steps further into the room, eyes wide and mouth agape. It's _gorgeous_. It's easily double the size of the bedroom in her apartment, and has a walk-in closet _and_ an en-suite, complete with a walk-in shower and a Jacuzzi bathtub. The windows are floor to ceiling, giving an incredible view of the ocean.

"Oh, my God…" she breathes in awe, stopping in front of the window and gazing out at the waves crashing on the shore. "This is amazing."

Logan's arms slide around her waist from behind. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it." Her hands cover his as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "It's perfect."

"I agree. Though we probably should see the other rooms, too."

"Sure."

The last two bedrooms are smaller, but still big enough for their needs. The second one will fit at least a double bed and can serve as a guest room, and the third could be used as an office, or a mini gym or something. At the end of the hall is the second bathroom, smaller than the master, but still adequate for their needs. The whole place is more than Veronica could have ever asked for.

"So?" says Logan softly once they reach the end of the tour.

"Yes," she states firmly. "This is it."

"My thoughts exactly." He grins. "So, we're going for it?"

"Definitely."

She forces herself not to think about the price. To be fair, it's not as expensive as she would have thought, given how amazing the place is, but it is more than she would have liked to spend. She knows she's probably getting too hung up on the money, but she's still getting used to this grown-up relationship, sharing thing. She's always lived within her means before, never spending more than she has available and it's difficult to get out of that mind-set, to accept that Logan's more than happy to share with her. An hour later, they put in an application for the condo.

* * *

"Mouth, dude, you're back!" says Chaos enthusiastically, when Logan reports to the Fleet Readiness Center the following week.

As he enters the crew room on Monday, his squadron-mate greets him with a hug and a clap on the back, which Logan returns with a grin.

"Hey, man."

"How was the det?" asks Chaos.

Logan nods. "Yeah, it was good."

"Ready to get back to it?" His friend asks. "We got a couple jets in need of partial flight tests this morning."

"Count me in."

Two hours later, they're suited up and ready to go. Chaos takes the lead, taking off first, then manoeuvring into a holding position a few miles out over the ocean while he waits for Logan to catch up.

 _God, it's good to have an actual, full-length runway again_ , Logan muses as he pushes the throttle and hurtles along the ground, the take-off so easy compared with the carrier.

He joins Chaos in the air and they start running through the morning's tests on the aircraft.

"Looking good there, Mouth." Chaos' voice comes through clear over the radio a few minutes later. "You seem more relaxed now."

Logan frowns. "Aren't I usually?"

"Sure, you are… but before you left, you were, I dunno… you didn't seem at your best."

Logan frowns. "Yeah, well, with Bilbo and everything…"

"Yeah, I know." There's a pause before the radio crackled again. "How was it, joining his squadron out there?"

"Wasn't easy at first," he admits. "Felt like a poor replacement for the real thing. But just had to get on with the job… put it behind me, you know? It was good, in the end. Helped me sort through some things."

"Yeah…" Chaos changes the subject, "Bet Veronica's glad you're home now though."

"Yeah, she is." Logan smiles, unable to help himself. "We're uh, finally making the living situation official."

"Nice!" He can tell Chaos is grinning. "You finally gonna make use of your place? Be good to have you back in San Diego."

"Nah. We've found somewhere new," Logan says. "It's in Neptune. Should be moving in mid-month."

"Congrats, man."

"Thanks."

"Listen, you and Veronica should come over for dinner one night," says Chaos then. "Maybe in a few weeks, when you're settled?"

"Sounds good, dude," replies Logan. "Thanks."

Conversation over for now, he turns his concentration back to the task at hand and as he and Chaos complete their flight tests and turn back toward base, Logan can't help but smile with contentment. He's feeling renewed, rejuvenated… happy. He wasn't lying earlier: the deployment _was_ good for him. He barely even thought about taking a drink when he was away—not that he could have even if he'd wanted to, dry ship and all—and getting back into life on-board again was just what he needed to get back on track after everything.

Of course, it sucked being away from Veronica again, but now that he's sorted himself out—for the most part—coming home to her has just been the icing on the cake. And now that they're officially moving in together, it feels like everything is falling right into place.

* * *

Veronica and Logan pick up the keys the second week of February. Logan doesn't have to leave his condo in San Diego until the end of the month, while she has to move right away, so they spend the weekend moving all of her things out of her apartment and into their new beach house.

Early Saturday morning, Veronica enlists the willing services of Keith, Wallace and Mac, while Logan seems to have roped both Chaos and Dick into helping with the heavy lifting. It takes several trips and a fair amount of debate over how to fit everything into the rented van, but by eight p.m. they've emptied the apartment and everything is in the beach house, though it's now crammed full of boxes with barely any room to move.

They've agreed to donate Veronica's hastily-purchased second-hand furniture to local charity stores and purchase new things they've chosen together—things that fit both of their personalities, and match the house. Thing is, said furniture won't be delivered for a few more days, so as a result, they're spending their first night in their new house eating Chinese take-out out of cartons and sleeping on the floor in the master bedroom.

"Okay, now this actually does feel real," says Veronica as she tries to get comfortable on the air mattress they've borrowed from Keith. "We have our own place, Logan."

"We do." Logan grins at her from where he stands by the window. "And look at this view."

The large windows have no blinds or curtains yet—those are being delivered on Monday—so they are afforded a full view of the ocean, as moonlight streams into the bedroom. Thank God the beach is private, because Veronica would rather not have to worry about random strangers peering through their windows at night.

"Hey, come here," she says, gaze roaming the muscular planes of Logan's bare back.

He's wearing nothing but thin sweatpants, hung low on his hips, and the sight of him, illuminated in the moonlight, is doing all kinds of things to her libido.

"What is it?" he asks, kneeling on the edge of the makeshift bed, his weight causing the mattress to shift beneath her.

She grins predatorily as she rises up onto her knees, shifting closer and running her index finger lightly down his chest. "I think now is a good a time as any to get started on christening this place."

"You do, huh?" His eyebrows rise suggestively. "I could be up for that."

Veronica glances down pointedly. "Oh, I think you already are."

Logan just grins, a twinkle in his eye as he lowers his mouth to her neck, pressing light kisses to the sensitive spot he knows all too well. Veronica's hands come up, fingers burying in his close-cropped hair as she shivers, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her eyes slide closed as she loses herself in the sensations of his caresses, but then, without warning, his hand slide over the back of her thighs and with one swift movement, she finds herself on her back on the mattress, Logan settling between her thighs.

She lets out a surprised squeal, then a laugh. "Oh my God, what are you doing?"

"Getting started on this christening thing," he murmurs against her skin. He lifts his head, a glint in his eye. "Thought you were on board with this?"

"Oh, I am," she assures him. "Definitely on board."

He gives her a shit-eating grin, then lowers his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily as he shucks his pants, kicking them off. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he gestures for her to take off her shirt, which she does eagerly, and then they're both naked.

Logan glances over to the window, expression thoughtful, and Veronica's eyes narrow in suspicion.

"What are you thinking?"

He shoots her another grin. "Let's make this interesting."

"Interesting, how?"

"Wanna do it _and_ enjoy the view at the same time?"

He nods toward the window, his meaning becoming clear, and Veronica feels her cheeks heating up. Part of her is slightly scandalised, but a bigger part is extremely turned on.

"I, uh…"

"Don't worry, no one's gonna see us."

 _Oh, what the hell…_

She nods and Logan helps her up.

"Go stand over there." His voice is silky as he nods to the window, and arousal swirls deep in her belly. "Hands on the glass, legs apart."

 _Oh, holy fuck_ , she thinks, though aloud she says, "Aye, aye, Lieutenant."

Feeling his eyes on her, she turns her back to him, walking over to the window and assuming her directed position. She feels open, exposed, like this, but also so, so turned on. Behind her, she hears Logan moving around, then the sound of a condom packet being opened, and then he's right there, hands on her hips, chest against her shoulder blades, arousal pressing insistently against her bottom.

"Oh, God," she mutters in response.

"Just look at that moon," he says softly, even as his hand slides down to cup her sex, two fingers slipping between her folds. "And the way the light's reflecting off the waves."

"Yeah…"

The other hand moves up to her breast, kneading gently as his fingers glide across her clit. She inhales sharply, bracing her hands on the glass as tingles shoot up her spine.

"Good?" His breath rushes against her ear as he nuzzles her neck.

"Uh huh." It's all she can manage.

"Feels naughty, huh?"

His fingers move faster and she feels the tension building deep inside her.

"Uh huh."

"You gonna come?"

"Uh huh."

"Not yet."

"What?" She blinks, disoriented when suddenly his fingers are gone, leaving her teetering on the edge. "No, don't stop."

"Sorry." He sounds anything but.

She barely has time to catch her breath before he's shifting, his length sliding between her legs. He rocks his hips, once, twice, head pressing deliciously against her clit, and she gasps.

"Yeah, right there."

But again he denies her, hands grasping her hips as he slides inside in one quick stroke.

"God, Logan." Her hips push back against him involuntarily, wanting, seeking more.

He starts moving, setting a steady, deliberate pace, withdrawing slow and leisurely, then entering with quick deep thrusts that draw long moans from her lips.

"Feel so good," he mutters, warm breath flowing over the back of her neck.

"Yeah…" She can barely even think straight, let alone speak.

"Touch yourself."

It's not a question, and Veronica shudders at the demanding tone, arousal pulsing through her body.

Shifting her weight to one hand and bracing it across the glass, her forehead resting against it, she lowers her hand, sliding her fingers between her lips and gently stroking her clit, already sensitive from Logan's caresses.

"Make yourself come," he demands between thrusts.

"Sir, yes, sir." It's supposed to be sarcastic, but instead it comes out breathless and aroused.

Behind her, Logan groans, the sound strained, and that only spurs her on. She starts off slow, stroking in time with Logan's thrusts, but soon finds it's not enough. She moves her fingers faster, breath coming in gasping pants as the tension grows and grows until she's barely holding on.

"Just let go," whispers Logan in her ear. "I've got you."

That's all it takes. One last stroke and she's tipping over, heat flooding her body as she bucks and writhes against him.

"That's it." His voice is gravelly, like he's struggling to keep it together. "God, I love you."

"Love you…"

She barely has time to recover before Logan increases the pace, the sounds of her heavy, gasping breaths, and his groans, and their bodies moving together, echoing around the empty room. One arm coming around her waist, he urges her upright, then reaches for her hands, pressing them to the glass again, covering them with his own and linking his fingers through hers. Her forehead rests on the window as she savours the feel of his body pressed against her, the feel his lips caressing the back of her neck, the feel of him filling her, thick and hard…. the feel of being complete.

It's heaven.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I have chapter 12 ready for you now, but due to being busy with work and getting over jetlag, I haven't had much time to write since I got back from vacation. So, I hope to have chapter 13 finished and posted next week, but I apologise in advance if it takes a bit longer to post than normal.

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

Logan is having the absolute worst day. From the moment he woke up this morning—with a crick in his neck and an aching back from sleeping on that damned air mattress until yesterday morning—right through to now: seven-fifteen p.m. on Tuesday night, nothing has gone right. And it's not just any Tuesday either; it's Valentine's Day. The first Valentine's Day he and Veronica have celebrated together, both in the same place at the same time… and he's going to be so late.

He wasn't released from duty until almost six-forty-five this evening, due to a last-minute, unscheduled flight test that ran on longer than expected, and by the time he gets in the car, it's almost seven-fifteen… and he was supposed to meet Veronica at Mama Leone's in Neptune at seven.

As he drives out of the base, he calls Veronica through the car's Bluetooth connection.

"Logan?" she answers.

"Veronica, I'm so sorry," he says quickly. "I got caught up at work. I'm going to be late."

"Where are you now?"

"Just leaving the base."

"Seriously?" she says, voice filled with dismay. "But I'm already at the restaurant."

"I'm sorry," he says again, as he merges onto the 75. "If I could've gotten away any earlier, I would have."

"Yeah, I know you would." She sighs. "Okay, well I can't sit here for an hour waiting for you. The waiter already thinks I've been stood up and it's only been fifteen minutes."

"Look, why don't you order to go and we can eat when I get back?" he suggests. "Or I can swing by Mama Leone's and pick up the food on the way?"

"Okay, sure," she agrees. "I'll order now and ask for it to be ready in an hour. You want the usual?"

"Of course." He nods, though he knows she can't see him. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"See you soon, Logan."

* * *

By the time Logan arrives home, having collected the food from the restaurant, it's almost eight-thirty. Veronica is curled up on their new sofa, Pony's head in her lap as she flicks through channels on the TV.

"Hey, I'm home," he announces, closing the front door behind him.

Pony lets out a soft bark, clambering off the sofa and bounding over to him, jumping up and pawing at his legs in greeting.

"Hey, girl." Logan places the take-out bags down on the table by the door and leans down to pet her. "You have a good day, sweetheart?"

"She did," says Veronica, walking over to him. "She spent it running in circles around the office and getting in everyone's way."

"You did, huh?" Logan grins, ruffling Pony's fur. "That's my girl."

"Nice to see you encouraging her delinquent behaviour." Veronica smirks as she leans in, giving him a kiss.

"Gotta do my part." He shrugs, shooting her a grin. "Sorry again for being late."

"Couldn't be helped." She dismisses the apology with a shake of her head. "Besides, you're here now."

"And I have food."

"Excellent," she drawls, wiggling her eyebrows.

Kissing him again, she picks up the bags and carries them into the kitchen area.

As she roots around in the cupboards for plates, she asks, "Good day at work?"

Logan makes a face. "Not really."

She frowns. "What happened?"

"Just one of those days where everything seemed to go wrong." He shrugs. "You?"

Opening the take-out bags, she starts dishing out the food. "Eh, same old."

Logan joins her at island, pulling out the rest of the boxes and lining them up on the counter, then fixing a couple of drinks. With a soft smile, he approaches Veronica from behind, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing the side of her neck.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

She smiles, tilting her head in invitation. "Happy Valentine's."

They eat dinner at the dining room table, in an attempt to recreate the semi-formal atmosphere of the restaurant meal they should have had, then curl up together on the sofa, snuggling under a blanket, sipping from steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"This was just what I needed after the day I've had," says Logan, running his fingers along Veronica's arm under the blanket.

She sighs softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Me, too."

He shifts, placing his mug down on the coffee table, and she winces. He frowns in concern.

"Still sore from the mattress?"

The delivery of their new bed had been delayed by several days and it didn't arrive until yesterday afternoon, which meant that they ended up spending nine nights sleeping on the crappy air mattress instead of just four.

"Yeah."

"Come here."

He urges her to sit up, then slides his hands up to the back of her neck, kneading gently.

"That feels good," she murmurs as his fingers seek out the knots of the tight muscles there.

Logan smiles, increasing the pressure, his hands sliding down to her shoulders as well.

"Hmm, you're pretty good at this, you know?"

"So, I've been told."

She glances over her shoulder, looking amused. "Oh, really?"

He ignores her, not going near that line of questioning, and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "You wanna go lie down, do this properly?"

"Yes, please."

"Come on, then." He slides off the couch, holding his hand out to her.

* * *

Veronica lets Logan lead her into the bedroom, toward their brand new California King—which has the most comfortable mattress she's ever slept on. Unfortunately, so far, only one night on it hasn't been enough to counteract the effects that nine nights on the air bed have had on her back and shoulders.

Logan closes the bedroom door behind them with a soft click, then gestures for her to lie down. Veronica peels off her top, leaving her in her bra and comfortable sweatpants, and settles on her stomach on the bed. The mattress dips as Logan joins her and then his large, warm hands start sliding over her bare skin.

Veronica relaxes beneath his soothing touch, a soft groan escaping her lips when he starts working out the sore kinks in the back of her neck. All too soon, his hands leave her skin and she makes a noise of discontentment.

"Hey, don't stop."

"I'm not," he says gently. "I'll be right back."

"You'd better."

True to his word, he's only gone for about twenty seconds, and when he returns, the scent of lavender permeates the room.

"What—?" she mumbles in question.

"Massage oil," he clarifies. "Saw it in the bathroom the other day."

His hands slide over her skin again, this time warm and slick with the oil. It feels amazing.

"Yeah, it was a Christmas present," she responds softly.

Logan's hands work in firm circular strokes across her back, leaving tingles in their wake. He gently unclasps her bra, sliding the straps down over her shoulders, and then his hands move further down, palms flattening as they slide over her lower back, the tips of his fingers brushing along her sides.

"God…" she murmurs. "So good."

"Yeah?" His voice is soft, almost seductive.

"Uh, huh."

His hands move back up to her shoulders, thumbs pressing insistently, easing the remaining knots there. He stops and she almost grumbles in protest, but then she feels him shift, moving to straddle her legs, and a moment later his lips brush across the back of her neck. She shudders in response, heat pooling low in her stomach as tingles shoot along her nerves. Logan leaves a trail of kisses along her spine as his fingers move in gentle circles across her skin.

The sensation is incredible and she shifts restlessly on the bed, her hips rocking gently as arousal starts to build. Logan's hands move to her hips, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of her pants as his lips suckle gently at her lower back. Veronica lifts her lower body, allowing him to ease the material down over her hips, bringing her underwear with them. The clothing hits the floor and Logan breaks contact, sitting up. She hears him squeeze more oil into his hands, and then he's massaging her calves, stroking gently upwards, hands easing higher and higher until his fingers brush her inner thighs.

She's tingling all over, breath coming in short pants, as Logan gently parts her legs, his fingers slipping between her folds.

"Oh…"

He moves again, stroking her clit as his mouth brushes along her spine, kissing and licking until she's trembling beneath him, the heat building in her belly, tension escalating until it spills over into orgasm. She clutches the pillows, hips bucking as the climax flows through her.

When she recovers, Logan tenderly kisses the base of her spine, and says, "Feel better?"

"God, yeah." Her voice comes out breathy. "You're so good at that."

"Turn over," he requests gently.

Summoning just enough energy to move, her limbs feeling like Jell-O, she rolls over just in time to see Logan pulling his Henley over his head, revealing a tantalising display of muscle. Veronica starts to sit up, to help, but he bats her hand away with a lopsided smile.

"You just relax. I got this."

Kneeling between her legs, he leans forward, reaching out a hand and brushing the hair from her face as his palm slides along her cheek. His eyes lock with hers and Veronica feels herself being drawn into his intense gaze. She shivers.

"I love you," he murmurs softly, lowering his mouth to hers before she can respond in kind.

He kisses her, deep and overwhelming, as his hands drift down over her collarbone, fingers gently manipulating the tight muscle just below her shoulders, then walking their way down to her chest. He palms her breasts, kneading gently as he kisses a path over her jaw line and down her neck, and heat pools in her belly again.

Veronica sighs beneath his touch. "You should be late more often, if this is the treatment I get."

He smiles against her skin, but doesn't reply as his hands skim down over her stomach, stroking the skin softly and making her squirm with want. His mouth moves to her breast and her fingers bury in his hair, holding him close. He slides lower, palms flattening on her inner thighs, parting them further as he kisses a trail down her stomach, tongue dipping into her belly button before moving lower still. Her hips buck when his mouth closes over her clit, fingers tightening in his hair as he licks and sucks, his fingers sliding inside her, over and over, until she's crying out for release.

"Oh my God…" she groans, when she finally falls, orgasm crashing over her like a wave. "Yeah...just like that."

Lying boneless on the bed as she tries to catch her breath, she manages a, "Holy fuck, that was amazing…"

Logan's hands rest on her hips as he lifts his head to look at her with a crooked, self-satisfied grin. "Good, huh?"

"You know, I was wrong all those years ago," she muses, her fingers running through his hair as he moves back up her body, looking down at her, expression a mixture of amusement and lust. "You should go totally pro in _this_... you know, the whole massage package, not just the 'happy ending' part. Your skills are _incredible_."

"I should, huh?" His nose nudges hers.

"Definitely." She tilts her chin up, bringing their mouths together. When they part, she gazes up at him, looping her arms around his neck. "Make love to me?"

He gives her a tender smile. "With pleasure."

* * *

Saturday night finds Logan in the 09er, having drinks with Chaos and Cosmo, who has flown down to SoCal for the weekend.

"Remember when Chavez tried to convince the rookies they had to do 20 laps of the flight deck in the blistering heat and they all fell for it?" says Chaos.

"God, yeah, that's right." Cosmo grins as he brings his beer bottle to his lips and takes a sip.

"I remember he got an earful from the OC afterwards," recalls Logan.

"Aren't you glad we weren't that gullible when we were rookies?"

"Speak for yourself, Chaos," says Cosmo. "I seem to remember Mouth here falling for some stupid shit during OCS."

"I fucking did not," Logan denies quickly, pointing at Cosmo. "You're remembering that wrong."

"Am I?" Cosmo raises an eyebrow. "Does the room inspection incident of 2011 ring any bells?"

Logan cringes. Shit, he'd forgotten about that. "Oh, fuck off."

He lifts his glass, draining the rest of his Coke, then slides off his stool.

"Looks like it's my round," he says. "Same again, guys?"

Chaos and Cosmo both nod, and Logan turns to head for the bar just as someone bumps into him from the side.

"Hey, sorry, man," the guy apologises hastily.

"No worries." Logan turns to face the guy, quickly recognising him. "Wallace. Hey."

"Logan." Wallace nods. "How're you doing?"

"Pretty good," he replies. "Surprised to see you here. Didn't think the 09er was your scene."

Wallace shrugs. "It's not. I'm here for a colleague's birthday celebration; you know how it is."

"Ah." He nods.

"Yeah, it's winding down," says Wallace. "I was just heading out actually."

Logan makes an impulsive decision. "Look, night's still young. Wanna join us for a drink?"

"Oh, uh…" Wallace glances toward Chaos and Cosmo. "Sure, why not?"

"Great. I was just heading to the bar. What're you having?"

"I'll come with you."

They order a round of drinks from the bar—three beers plus a soft drink for Logan—and carry them back to the table.

"Wallace, this is Chaos and Cosmo." Logan makes the introductions. "They're on my squadron. Guys, this is Wallace Fennel. We went to high school—and college—together."

"Nice to meet you, man," says Chaos, smiling warmly as he holds out his hand.

"You, too." Wallace shakes it, then Cosmo's, and slides onto a fourth stool as Logan takes his seat. "So, you guys fly with Logan?"

"Yeah." Chaos nods. "I'm a pilot. Cosmo is Logan's WSO."

"WSO?" Wallace frowns.

"Weapon Systems Officer," clarifies Cosmo. "I'm in the back seat. You know, like Goose in Top Gun."

"Oh, cool," says Wallace with an interested smile.

"So, you went to high school with Mouth, here?" asks Chaos. "Don't think he's mentioned you."

Logan opens his mouth to step in and explain, but Wallace beats him to it.

"We weren't exactly friends in back then." Wallace turns to Logan. "Didn't we only talk, like, that one time in high school? For that science project?"

"Yeah. Pretty much," Logan agrees. "We barely even knew each other."

"Yeah, well, Veronica did like to compartmentalise."

"You know Veronica too?" asks Cosmo.

Wallace grins. "Dude, she's my best friend. Has been since we were 16."

"Wait." Chaos frowns. "You were her best friend, and Mouth here was her boyfriend, but you two didn't know each other?"

"Like he said," Logan cuts in, indicating that the topic should be left alone. "Veronica liked to compartmentalise."

Chaos takes the hint. "So, what do you do, Wallace?"

"JV basketball coach at Neptune High. Teach physics too."

Logan blinks in surprise. "You teach physics? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well, you never asked," Wallace says pointedly.

"Yeah, guess not." Logan winces.

"Hey, that reminds me, I wanted to pick your brains about planes." Logan tries not to chuckle and Wallace narrows his eyes at him. "And yes, I'm aware that rhymed."

Logan swallows his laughter, giving a nod instead. "Go ahead. You got three qualified Navy pilots right here in front of you."

Wallace smiles, rubbing his hands together in preparation. "Well, okay then. Here goes."

Conversation flows easily as Wallace starts asking questions and the three of them answer eagerly, in their element. There's joking and banter mixed in with the serious responses and Logan actually finds himself enjoying hanging out with Wallace—something he's never really had a chance to do before. The more time he spends with the man, the more he can see why he and Veronica are such good friends.

"Hey, listen," he says to Wallace, after Cosmo gets done explaining the operating system in the jet. "You should come down to the base sometime, see it all first-hand."

"Yeah," adds Chaos. "We can give you the whole tour. And you can even pick the brains of the flight engineers if you want."

"Really?" Wallace grins, his eyes lighting up. "That would be awesome. Spring Break's coming up soon, maybe then?"

"Sure." Logan smiles. "Anytime, man."

* * *

Two weekends later, Veronica and Logan drive down to San Diego for dinner with Chaos and Sarah. Veronica hasn't seen Chaos since the funeral up in Seattle, though she met Sarah for coffee one day before Christmas while Logan was deployed. Normally, she would avoid dinner parties such as this, but she likes both Chaos and his wife, and Logan's been enthusiastic about this evening, so she's happy to tag along.

"You okay?" Logan asks, glancing over at her as he turns onto Chaos' street.

"Yeah, I'm good." Veronica nods, shifting the two bottles in her lap: red wine and non-alcoholic grape juice.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight."

"Of course I was gonna come with you." Veronica frowns, bemused. "You think I wouldn't?"

"No, course not," he says. "It's just… I know this kind of thing isn't really your scene."

"What, spending time with one of your best friends and his wife, who is also a friend of mine?" she says incredulously. "Logan, please."

"Yeah, okay." He pulls into Chaos' driveway and cuts the engine. "Good point."

They get out of the car and head up the path. Chaos opens the door with a wide smile just a few seconds after Logan rings the bell.

"Hey, guys, glad you made it," he greets cheerfully. "Come on in."

Logan gestures for Veronica to go ahead, and she smiles as she steps inside.

"Veronica, welcome to our humble abode," says Chaos smoothly. "May I take your coat?"

"Oh, thank you." Veronica hands the bottles over to Logan so she can shrug out of her jacket. "Such a gentleman."

Beside her, Logan snorts in amusement.

"Hey!" Chaos responds with indignation at the same time Veronica turns to Logan with a raised eyebrow.

"You're one to talk, mister," she says with a smirk. "When was the last time _you_ offered to take my coat?"

"Like you'd even let me," he retorts. "I'd probably get a lecture on the importance of being an independent woman who doesn't need a man to take care of her."

"Shut up, I would never," she says, though it's totally not true, and she knows Logan knows that.

"Yeah, you would." There's affection in his tone as he says it, and it makes her feel warm all over. He leans in, murmurs softly, "Why I love you."

Beside them, Chaos clears his throat. Veronica turns to find him watching them with a barely-concealed smile and a raised eyebrow. "Uh, Veronica, can I give you a tour of the place? Mouth doesn't need one. He already knows his way around."

"Sure." She nods with a smile.

"I'll just take these through to Sarah." Logan holds up the bottles in his hands.

"Thanks, man." Chaos nods toward the back of the house. "She's in there."

Logan heads down the hall while Chaos gives her a tour. The house is nice—fairly small, but cosy and warm. Chaos tells her it's off-base military housing, paid for by his accommodation allowances, and she has to admit that it's nicer than she would have expected. The way Logan's talked about military housing, she's had the impression it's little better than living in a college dorm.

"And finally: the kitchen-diner," Chaos announces with a flourish as he shows Veronica into the kitchen, where Logan and Sarah are chatting amiably.

"Veronica," Sarah turns to her with a warm smile. "Great to see you."

She steps forward, giving Veronica a quick hug.

"You, too, Sarah," she says. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Shall we eat?" says Chaos.

They sit around the dining table on the other side of the room and conversation flows freely through the appetiser and main course, both of which Chaos is responsible for—which surprises Veronica until she remembers Logan telling her Chaos went to culinary school before joining the Navy, and is the one who taught him to cook. Logan and Chaos regale Veronica and Sarah with amusing stories from in flight school and their deployments, but then the attention is on Veronica as she is asked about being a private investigator in Neptune and the kinds of cases she deals with. Chaos, of course, wants to know what Logan was really like in high school and tries to get her to spill the dirt, while Sarah attempts to rein him in and insists she doesn't have to answer.

It's all very relaxed—fun, even—and as Chaos clears the plates from the main course, Veronica realises that not a single question they've asked her has even alluded to the sordid details of her past… not a word about Logan's father, or Lilly, or anything. She has to wonder if it's because Logan has already told them all the details, or whether he's asked them to steer clear of the topic completely… or maybe they don't even know what happened—though she very much doubts that, given who Logan is and how high-profile the case was, not to mention how close he seems to be to Chaos.

Chaos serves the dessert—Key Lime Pie—and takes a seat, but before anyone tucks in, he takes a moment to get their attention.

"I just want to say thanks for coming, guys." He raises his glass. "It's been a great evening so far."

"Thanks for inviting us," responds Veronica with a smile.

"That's not all," he says, glancing toward Sarah and taking her hand as his smile widens. "We also have an announcement." He pauses for a moment before saying, "We're pregnant."

"Oh, wow, guys, that's amazing!" Logan says enthusiastically, before Veronica can react. "Congratulations."

"That's wonderful news," adds Veronica, finding her voice. "Congratulations, both of you."

"Thanks." Sarah smiles widely, squeezing Chaos' hand.

Veronica's not really sure how to react to the news; she doesn't have much experience in this area. None of her friends from Stanford or Columbia are at the baby-having stage yet.

"How, uh, how far along are you?" she asks, almost for lack of anything else to say.

"Just over four months."

Logan shoots Chaos a wide grin and a nod, a silent communication passing between them. Veronica eyes them for a moment, before turning her attention to Sarah, sitting next to her.

"You've been pregnant all this time and you didn't say anything?" she asks lightly.

Sarah shrugs sheepishly. "We wanted to get past the first trimester before we announced it. You know, just in case."

"Yeah." Veronica nods. "You guys seem really happy."

Sarah nods, looking over at Chaos with a smile. "We are."

"And how are you doing?" she asks. "All going well? You look great, by the way."

"Yeah, it's been surprisingly easy so far… almost too easy, actually," admits Sarah. "I keep waiting for the terrible morning sickness and exhaustion I've heard so much about, but other than a bit of nausea, it's been smooth sailing so far."

"That's good."

Sarah starts to say something more, but Chaos interrupts, insisting they all get started on the dessert. As Veronica digs in, she glances over at Logan. He's asking Sarah about her due date as his eyes dart towards Chaos with pride; but when he turns his attention to his plate, she sees something else in his expression, something she can't quite put her finger on… wistfulness, maybe? Whatever it is, it causes a twisting sensation in her chest that she struggles to ignore.

* * *

They spend the ride back to Neptune making small talk and studiously avoiding the big news. Or at least, Veronica is studiously avoiding it; she's not really sure what Logan's thinking right now. She successfully manages not to broach the subject until they're lying together in bed almost two hours later.

"I had a good time tonight," says Veronica into the darkness, her head resting against his chest.

"Yeah," Logan agrees softly. His fingers stroke along her arm as he speaks.

"Chaos and Sarah seem really happy."

"They do," he says. "But I can't believe he kept this from me for so long."

"Sarah said they wanted to wait, make sure everything was okay."

"Understandable. They've been trying for a while," Logan says in response. "I think he was worried it was never gonna happen."

"Yeah?"

She's surprised Logan knows so much about his friend's personal life. Somehow she can't picture the two of them sitting around the crew room discussing their domestics.

 _Oh God._ She stiffens a little, an awful thought occurring to her. _What has he told Chaos about us? About_ me _?_

"Yeah, last summer he said they were gonna try when he got home, but in October they hadn't had any luck," he says. "Guess that didn't last long."

"No."

There's a long moment of silence before Logan says the words she knows have been coming, but has been dreading hearing.

"You know, we haven't ever talked about it."

"Talked about what?" She feigns ignorance, though her heart is thumping loudly in her chest.

"About, you know, children." He sounds hesitant. "The future."

 _And there it is._

The silence stretches between them as she tries to figure out how to respond.

Eventually she just goes with, "No, we haven't."

"Should we?"

"Maybe," she hedges, wishing she could just say, ' _oh, hell, no_ ' and be done with it, but knowing she has to face this sometime. Might as well be now.

"So?"

"So… what?"

He sighs.

"Are you really gonna make me say it?" She stays silent, not trusting her voice. "Okay, fine. Veronica, do you want to have kids?"

She opens her mouth, then closes it. Then opens it again. "I—"

"Never mind." He sighs again. "I remember what you said in high school. You've never wanted them. Just thought maybe you had a different opinion now."

She feels slightly stunned, not entirely sure what to think right now.

"Logan, I…" she starts, then changes tack. "Do _you_ want kids? 'Cause I seem to recall us being on a similar page back then."

"I… don't know," he says softly, his fingers stroking along her back. "I didn't used to. Considering my gene pool, I never thought reproduction would be a good thing. But lately, seeing all the guys happily married, starting families… I don't know, maybe I'm changing my mind. Maybe I do want that after all."

"Logan…" Veronica feels a tug in her chest at his raw admission.

She wishes she could comfort him, tell him she does want children and make it all better, but she can't. Because she's spent years telling herself she won't ever have kids, that she won't bring an innocent child into this ugly world of evil and corruption and crappy parenting.

"I—I had a... scare, while you were away," she admits. "You know that last night together before you left? Well, couple weeks later. I was late and I thought I might be pregnant. I kinda panicked."

"Shit, Veronica." The words come out in a stunned exhale. "That's why you were so distracted when we Skyped?"

"Maybe…"

"What were you going to do, if… you know… you were?"

She shakes her head in the dark. "I don't know. I was just happy I got my period and didn't have to worry about it." She sighs heavily, turning her head toward him. "Logan, I didn't want to have to make a decision like that. I was so relieved when it turned out I didn't need to."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Guess that answers my question." His tone is flat.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs softly. "I don't want to hurt or disappoint you, but I can't help how I feel."

"I know you can't."

He sounds so despondent that it makes her chest tighten. She curls her body closer to him.

"Are you upset?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." He shifts a little beneath her cheek. "I never thought I would want to bring a child into the world—not after the shitshow that was my childhood—but sometimes I just think…what if?"

"Yeah."

He gives a shrug, the movement jostling her slightly. Veronica makes an impulsive decision, turning so she can face him, her palm coming up to rest on his cheek.

"Look, Logan…if I ever do feel differently," she says. "There's absolutely no one else in the world I would ever consider having children with."

"Yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"Okay," he whispers, relaxing a little. "Okay."

His arm tightens around her, pulling her closer to his side as he drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I'll always love you, Veronica," he says. "No matter what happens."

"Me, too, Logan," she tells him earnestly. "Don't ever think I won't."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Apologies for the long wait between updates - I've had a crazy couple of weeks. I had been hoping to post this chapter 2 weeks ago, but it wasn't quite finished before I went away again and then I was too busy and tired to work on the story. Plus I've been sick with a bad cough and now a cold too (that'll teach me not to attend 3 fan conventions in two different countries in the space of 10 days)!

The chapter is now ready though and as it's Wednesday (and it's my birthday), here it is...

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Logan spends the next couple of weeks convincing himself that everything is fine, that nothing has changed, but in late March, when he arrives home to an empty condo for the third night in a row, he finally admits something's wrong. He's barely seen Veronica in days; she's been out until all hours on stake-outs and doing research for her cases, and while that's not unusual in and of itself, the more it happens, the more he gets the feeling she's deliberately avoiding him.

Closing the front door behind him, he sighs, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the coat stand, as Pony bounds over, tail wagging with excitement.

"Hey, girl." He forces a smile, crouching down to ruffle her soft fur. "Miss me?"

She jumps up and licks his face, provoking a genuine smile this time.

"Where's Mommy, huh?" He takes the dog's face lightly in his hands as he addresses her. "Out late again?"

Pony gives a soft bark and Logan lets out another sigh. "Yeah, big surprise."

Standing up, he heads for the kitchen, checking his phone on the way. No messages. As he opens the fridge and starts pulling out things for dinner, his thoughts return to the conversation that got him into this situation in the first place.

Goddamn him for bringing up the kid thing. He should have known better, should've known he'd end up disappointed, that she would pull away from him. He took a chance, hoping that since the marriage conversation hadn't gone over too badly, she might be open to the baby conversation too. At the time, it seemed to go okay, even if it didn't wield the outcome he was hoping for, but since then, she's been pulling away from him.

Honestly, before—before the Navy, before Veronica came back into his life—he never thought he wanted kids either. Considering how he grew up, how he experienced first-hand what kind of man his father was, for a long time he'd been scared of reproducing, convinced he was doomed to follow in Aaron's footsteps, no matter how much he fought not to. But lately, since his squadron-mates have become parents, since he and Veronica got back together, since that conversation he had with Chaos about fatherhood on the ship last year, and especially since Chaos and Sarah broke their good news almost three weeks ago, he's been reconsidering his stance on parenthood.

Some days, all he has to do is close his eyes and he can picture Veronica holding a tiny baby in her arms. He can picture her baking snickerdoodles with a golden-haired toddler, can picture himself teaching their son or daughter how to surf, and telling them all about flying planes. He can picture curling up with Veronica on a bed, their child snuggled between them, reading bedtime stories.

But the kicker is: Veronica doesn't want that. She doesn't want children. She's made that perfectly clear, always has. Which means he's craving a life he can never have, and he's trying not to let it show, is trying to act like everything is normal, but he just can't seem to shake those thoughts from his mind. And as much as they're both pretending to the contrary, it's been affecting their relationship, but he doesn't know what he can do to fix it.

Turning on the radio as a distraction, he forces his concentration back to the dinner and is busy boiling pasta when he hears Pony barking at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Veronica appears in the kitchen a few moments later, Pony following close at her heels.

"Evening," she greets, crossing the room and rising up, resting her hand on his forearm as she gives him a kiss and he turns his head to meet her halfway. "Smells great."

"It's not much." He shrugs, eyes remaining on her as she steps away and opens the fridge, reaching for a couple of Cokes.

"Want one?" She holds a can up in invitation.

"Sure." He turns off the hob and turns around, his eyes following her consideringly as she reaches for the glasses. "You're back late tonight."

"Yeah." She nods, her back to him. "Busy day."

"Feels like I've barely seen you all week," he says carefully.

"Like I said, I've been busy." The words are casual, but he can detect the barely masked tension in her tone.

"Right."

She finishes pouring the drinks, then turns around, her expression guarded. "Logan…"

"What?" Her resigned tone makes him goes on the defensive.

Veronica shakes her head. "Nothing. Never mind."

The dismissal rubs him the wrong way and anger colours his tone as he responds.

"No, you know what? It's not nothing. Veronica, we need to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" She seems to be feigning ignorance, but the hesitance in her voice gives her away.

"You know, the massive elephant in the room," he says pointedly. "The one we've been tiptoeing around for the last few weeks."

Her expression clouds over, a frown crossing her face as her jaw clenches. "Logan, come on. This isn't fair."

"You've been avoiding me, Veronica." He takes a step toward her. When she rolls her eyes, he adds, "Don't deny it."

She just stares him down for a long moment, before exhaling heavily. "I thought we were okay here, Logan. I thought you understood."

"I do, it's just…" He trails off, unsure how to finish.

"It's just that you want children… and I don't," she states flatly.

"That's not—I didn't—" He tries to protest, to make it seem less blunt. It doesn't work.

"I can see it in your eyes, Logan," she admits. "I see you watching me with that look; the one that tells me you're picturing what it would be like."

 _Shit. She knows._

"Veronica… I—"

"You know me, Logan!" she bursts out, moving closer. "You've _always_ known how I feel! You know I don't want children and you've never had a problem with it before."

"I know," he responds, voice rising in response to her outburst. "I fucking know that, okay? Believe me, I never wanted them before either, but…"

"But now you do," she finishes for him, her voice controlled, quiet.

"Yeah, I guess I do," he admits softly.

Silence falls as he looks at her, taking in the resigned demeanour, her sad expression, the hint of frustration and anger he sees there.

"And what do you expect me to say to that, Logan?" she shoots back. "You can't just give me that 'puppy dog' look of yours and expect me to give in. This is my _life_ , my _body_ we're talking about here."

Logan closes his eyes, reining in the irritation that's threatening to bubble over.

"I know," he says tightly. "Believe me, I know _your_ feelings on the subject all too well. But I have feelings too, and right now it feels like you're just dismissing them."

Her jaw clenches, eyes widening, fire blazing within them as she takes a step back. "Are you fucking _serious_ right now?"

 _Shit. This is going from bad to worse._

"Veronica—" he starts, moving closer, but she backs away, one hand lifting to keep him at bay.

"Wait," she cuts him off, "so just because _you_ want a kid, _I_ have to go through nine months of pregnancy, followed by an _excruciating_ labour." She starts counting off on her fingers. "And _then_ I'd end up a single parent to a child I didn't even want in the first place because you're off swanning about on a fucking aircraft carrier for months at a time?"

"No, that's not—" He fumbles to articulate, hurt and shock from her words reverberating through him. "I would never—"

She crosses her arms, staring daggers at him. "No?"

"No," he states forcefully. "For fuck's sake, Veronica. I _love_ you."

Her jaw twitches, like she wants to reply, but is forcing herself not to. Her silence encourages him to continue.

"I just wanted… God, I guess I was stupid enough to think we actually could have an honest, rational discussion about this. With no judgement," he says tersely, trying not to let his anger show. It doesn't work. "But of course, you're Veronica Mars. Should've fucking known better."

Her eyes flash with fury, and she takes a menacing step forward, staring up at him mutinously as she speaks, slowly and carefully.

"Fuck. You. Logan."

Her tone is so cold it sends a shock right through him. He hasn't heard that tone from her... well, ever. She turns to leave and he panics.

"Wait!" He moves to reach for her, then quickly pulls his hand back when she flinches away. "Don't go."

"No," she grinds out. "I need to be alone right now."

"Veronica, please…" he calls after her as she leaves the room. "Come on. Let's talk about this."

"Goodnight, Logan." Her voice carries down the hallway. "Couch is all yours."

The bedroom door slams shut behind her and silence falls over the kitchen. Even Pony, who has been watching them curiously, is silent.

"Fuck!" He exclaims, slamming a hand down on the counter. "Shit!"

How the hell is he supposed to fix this now?

* * *

The next morning, Wallace pulls up outside the guardroom of NAS North Island. As he puts his car in park and makes his way into the small building to sign in and pick up the car pass Echolls promised would be there for him, he wonders, not for the first time, what he's doing here.

Of course, when the opportunity to tour the naval base and meet the pilots and engineers of actual fighter jets arose, he couldn't say no. It's just that he's a little wary about how the opportunity came about, and just who made the offer. Wallace has always thought of himself as an easy-going, tolerant guy. He's friendly, he gets on with most people, and doesn't hate anyone. So, this ought to be easy. All he has to do is spend a few hours on a naval base with Logan Echolls.

Problem is, Echolls is one of the very few people he does not get along with. He likes to think he doesn't judge based on first impressions, but to say his first impression of Logan Echolls was not good is an understatement. His second and third impressions were no better either for that matter.

"Name?" the uniformed officer behind the desk demands gruffly as Wallace enters the guardroom.

"Fennel," he says. "Wallace."

"You have ID?"

"Sure." He digs his driver's licence out of his wallet. "Here."

"Purpose of visit?"

"Uh, I'm visiting the, uh…" He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand, which has the directions to the base scribbled on it. "Fleet Readiness Center."

"Who's your sponsor?"

Wallace blinks. _My what?_ "Uh, I don't—I mean—"

The officer sighs. "The person escorting you onto base."

"Oh. Right." He nods. "Logan Echolls."

The guy just looks at him expectantly and it takes a moment to realise what he's waiting for.

"Lieutenant," he adds quickly, feeling strangely nervous. "Lieutenant Logan Echolls. He's with the Fleet Readiness Center."

"Right." Without even cracking a smile, the guy picks up his phone and dials a number. "Good morning, sir. This is the guardroom. I have a Mr. Fennel here to see a… Lieutenant Echolls."

He listens for a moment, before nodding and disconnecting the call. The man looks over at Wallace. "He'll be here to meet you soon. I need your plates and a photo for the pass."

"Right. Okay."

Wallace reels off the numbers on his plates, then, as instructed, looks into a small camera fixed to the wall while the officer takes a picture of him, then prints off two passes: one with his photo and personal details, and the other with his car registration number, and hands them to Wallace.

"These these must be displayed in your car and on your person at all times while on base," the officer tells him. "If you wait outside, Lt. Echolls will be here shortly to escort you in."

"Thank you."

Wallace heads back to his car just as a red Mercedes pulls up beside him and a familiar head pops out, though it's not the person he's expecting.

"Wallace?" It's Logan's fellow squadron-mate, Chaos. "Hey. Glad you made it."

"Hey… uh, Chaos," he says, smiling when the guy nods. "Sorry. Was expecting Logan."

"Yeah, sorry. He's tied up right now," Chaos explains, gesturing to Wallace's car. "If you follow me in, I'll show you around until Logan's free."

"Sure."

Wallace gets back into his car, following Chaos through the sprawling base until he pulls up outside a one-storey building located close to the runway. As he climbs out and locks the car, he notices a number of aircraft parked up on the large expanse of concrete before him. The roar of a jet engine overhead makes him look up in time to see a fighter jet fly past at high speed. Chaos joins him as he watches the plane curve upwards into the sky.

"You know I said Logan was tied up right now?" the guy shouts over the racket.

"Yeah…?"

"That's him." He gestures. "Up there."

 _Holy shit. Echolls is flying that monster of a fighter plane?_

"Seriously?"

Wallace is well aware of what Veronica's boyfriend does for a living… but it's one thing to know the guy pilots fast jets and another thing entirely to see him in action. He hates to admit it, but he's impressed.

"Geez."

"Yeah." Chaos gestures for him to enter the building. Once they're inside, he explains, "He got called to do a test run on one of the jets. Told me to tell you he's sorry and that he'll be down in an hour or so."

"No problem, man."

"In the meantime, I'll show you around," Chaos tells him with a smile. "This way."

Chaos spends the next thirty minutes giving him a tour of the squadron building, filling him in on how the ranks work, and what a typical day is like for him and Logan, while Wallace takes the opportunity to find out more about Chaos' background and why he joined the Navy.

It's when the guy mentions Logan in passing that Wallace can't resist asking, "So, how did you and Echolls meet?"

Chaos grins. "We were in the same training intake back in 2011. Went all the way through OCS and flight school together, then got assigned to the same operational squadron up in Lemoore in late 2013. We've been working together ever since. He's one of my best friends… and I guess I'm his, too."

"Yeah." Wallace blinks, not expecting that answer.

He's never really thought of Logan having close friends before. Other than Dick Casablancas, of course, but he can't picture Dick's friendship involving much more than booze, drugs and women.

"So, tell me," he says. "How did he handle joining the Navy… all that discipline? The Logan Echolls I knew in high school had more than a little trouble with authority figures."

"Tell me about it." Chaos grins. "How do you think he got his callsign?"

"Wow, seriously?" Wallace can't help the chuckle that escapes his mouth.

"Yeah. Learned his lesson pretty quick though," says Chaos. "You don't get away with that kind of thing more than once in the military."

Wallace laughs outright now, an amusing mental image of Logan trying desperately to keep his mouth shut in the face of a big, scary officer flitting through his mind.

"Still having trouble picturing it," he admits with a grin.

Beside him, Chaos shrugs. "Logan's a good guy. And a fucking awesome pilot. Veronica's a lucky woman."

"Yeah." Wallace can't conceal his disbelieving scoff.

The guy stops, studying him with a frown, making Wallace feel self-conscious.

"You don't like him much, do you?"

"I—" Wallace struggles for the right words. He sighs in resignation. "Truth is, in high school, he didn't exactly make a good impression. In fact, the description I'd use is 'Entitled Jackass'. I never understood what Veronica saw in him."

Chaos studies him for a long moment, before shaking his head. "Look, I'm guessing back then you only saw the version of him he projected to the world. Granted, I didn't know him as a teenager, but I _do_ know him now. And the Logan Echolls up there in that jet is kind and loyal and insanely protective of the people he loves."

"Huh." Wallace can't imagine any version of Logan Echolls fitting that description. Sure, he tolerates the guy for Veronica's sake, but that's about as far as it goes.

"Don't get me wrong, he's far from perfect—and he'll be the first to admit that. But he _is_ a good guy," adds Chaos. "He's been through a fuckin' hell of a lot and he's come out okay the other side. Not many people can go through what he has and still be functioning afterward."

"Yeah…" Wallace agrees absently, though his mind is whirring as Chaos hands him a pair of ear defenders and leads him outside to watch Logan's plane come into land.

As his gaze follows the descending jet, Wallace wonders what it is he's missing here—what is it Chaos knows about Echolls that he doesn't? He has a pretty good idea of what Logan went through in high school, what with Lilly, and his mother, and Aaron Echolls turning out to be a murderer, but Chaos' words seem to imply there was something more to it... something more personal that Wallace has not been privy to.

They stay on the apron until the plane is on the ground, and then Chaos gestures for him to follow him into a large aircraft hangar, inside which three F/A-18 jets are being worked on by a team of engineers.

As Chaos gestures to the jet closest to them, explaining what the engineers are doing, Echolls appears from the other side of the hangar, dressed in a green flight suit with all kinds of gear attached to it, and a helmet nestled under one arm.

"Good flight?" asks Chaos as Logan approaches them.

"Not bad." He nods, then turns to Wallace, shaking his hand. "Hey, man, good to see you. Just got a couple things to sort out and I'll be with you."

"Take your time, man," says Wallace amiably.

Logan just gives him a nod and a quick smile, before disappearing across the hangar floor. Wallace frowns as he watches him leave. Something's off with the guy today; he looks tired, with bags under his eyes and his features drawn and pinched.

"Is he okay?" he asks. "He seems stressed."

"I don't know." Chaos shrugs, glancing in Logan's direction with a thoughtful frown. "Has Veronica said anything to you?"

"About what?" Wallace is confused.

Chaos lowers his voice. "I think they're having problems."

"No way." Wallace blinks, unable to believe that. "What kind of problems?"

Sure, Veronica and Logan had a volatile relationship as teenagers, but from what he's seen the last few months, they're solid as a rock now.

"No idea." Chaos shrugs. "But something's up. He hasn't been himself the last couple weeks. Don't think he's sleeping well."

"Yeah?" Wallace frowns. "I mean, Veronica hasn't mentioned anything."

Though even as he says it, a small voice in the back of his mind niggles at him. _Yeah, but how often have you seen Veronica lately? When was the last time actually you sat down and talked to her?_

"Maybe I'm wrong." Chaos gives a shrug. "Anyway, I'm sure you're not here to discuss our personal shit. Let's get on with this tour."

Wallace spends the next couple of hours learning all about the jets, quizzing the engineers and the ground crew about their roles and talking pilot training with Logan and Chaos. They head over to the pizza place on base for lunch, and then in the afternoon, Logan gives him a personal tour of one of the aircraft, even letting him sit in it as Echolls shows him what all the buttons and switches do. By the time he thanks them for their time and climbs back into his car, he's feeling a combination of exhilaration and longing. It's been an awesome experience, but it's also making him nostalgic for what could have been if he'd followed his original dream of actually becoming an aeronautical engineer instead of going into teaching.

* * *

"Knock, knock."

Veronica looks up from the computer screen on Friday to see Wallace grinning at her from the doorway to her office.

"Hey, Supafly." She pastes on a smile as she greets him, though he rolls his eyes at the nickname. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't stop by to see my best friend on the last day of my week off?" He steps into the office. "You free for lunch?"

"Oh." Veronica blinks, glancing at the wall clock in surprise. "Guess I lost track of time."

"So? You up for it?" Wallace asks. "I don't normally get many chances to lunch off-campus."

"Sure," she agrees. "Just give me a minute."

Wallace nods, then glances around the offices, peering through the glass walls.

"Your dad and Mac not here?"

Veronica shakes her head as she closes the documents she was working on, then locks her screen.

"Dad's out on a surveillance run and Mac had to run to the store."

Grabbing her bag, she smiles at him. "Shall we?"

They end up at a coffee shop a couple of blocks over. It's a bit of a hole in the wall, but their sandwiches are amazing. They place their orders, then take a seat at a small table by the window.

"Enjoying your week off?" Veronica asks, stirring her steaming latte. "Did you visit the base? Get your nerd on over all those planes?"

Wallace doesn't say anything for a moment, just studies her thoughtfully, a slightly confused-looking frown on his face.

She shifts a little under his gaze. "What?"

"Nothing." He seems to snap out of it. "Yeah, I drove down there yesterday. Chaos showed me around at first, until Logan was done flying."

She smiles despite herself, momentarily forgetting the anger that has been steadily simmering beneath the surface for the last 36 hours.

"Pretty impressive, huh?"

Wallace gives a small grimace. "As much as it pains me to say it, yeah."

"So, it was a good day?"

He smiles widely now. "Awesome. Tell Logan thank you. Again."

 _Not likely_ , she thinks, while giving a quick nod. _We're not even speaking right now._

"Will do." She tries for perky but realises her tone has fallen flat when Wallace just levels her with a concerned look.

He opens his mouth to speak, but their sandwiches arrive before he can say anything. They fall quiet as they start eating, but it's not long before Wallace breaks the silence.

Leaning forward slightly, his voice low, he says. "Veronica, is everything okay?"

"Fine," she says brightly, pasting a fake smile on her face. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You tell me," he says. "You seem… I don't know… tense, stressed… and you look exhausted."

Veronica's heart sinks. _Should have known he'd see right through me._

"It's nothing," she dismisses his concerns. "Just didn't get much sleep last night."

"There something in the water at your end of Dog Beach?" he says lightly. "'Cause Logan wasn't looking too hot yesterday either."

Veronica starts, her back straightening and her eyes snapping to his. "Yeah?"

 _What does he know? Did Logan say something?_

Wallace isn't buying it. "Seriously, Vee, what's going on? Are you and Logan okay?"

A bitter laugh escapes her lips, as she tries to deflect. "Do you even care? You don't even like him."

Wallace recoils, looking hurt. "Of course I care, Veronica."

He leans across the table and touches her wrist with his fingers.

"You're my best friend. I love you and I want you to be happy." He shrugs, looking a little sheepish. "And you know, maybe I've gained some perspective when it comes to Logan."

"Yeah?" Her tone is lighter, though she's still a jumble of feelings inside.

Wallace shrugs again. "Seeing him in action yesterday… hearing what Chaos says about him, about how Logan's changed… just, maybe I misjudged him."

"Wow. Never thought I'd hear you say that," Veronica tries to keep her tone light, but from Wallace's expression, it's not working.

He fixes her with a concerned look. "Veronica, talk to me. What's wrong?"

She sighs, she torn between doing what she usually does and brushing off his worry, and opening up, confiding in her best friend. Even as she opens her mouth to speak, she's not sure what she'll say… until it all comes spilling out.

"God, it's such a mess, Wallace. We had this fight, and we're not even speaking," she says. "He's sleeping on the couch and I'm… God, I don't know what I can do to fix it."

She tries to keep her tone steady and not betray her emotions, but she can't stop her voice hitching at the end.

"Aw, Vee…" He reaches across the table. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"I don't know." She shakes her head, feeling at a loss. "One minute he's back home and we're so happy, and we're moving in together, but then suddenly he's talking about marriage, and kids, and—"

"Wait," he interrupts. "Marriage and kids? Seriously? Does he even _know_ you?"

"That's the problem: he does," she admits sadly. "He's always known how I feel… well, except when I was 12 and still had romantic ideas about happy families. But even when we were together years ago, he always knew… and he didn't care. In fact, he agreed with me."

She gives a tired sigh as she recalls a conversation they had one night after the whole Charlie Stone debacle, when both she and Logan had unequivocally decided that neither marriage nor children were for them.

"And now he doesn't? What changed?"

"That's the thing: I don't know." She shrugs helplessly. "I don't understand it. After the childhood he had, after everything… we were on the same page, you know? Or so I thought."

Wallace frowns, looking like he's debating with himself over something. Veronica is about to ask what's wrong, when his expression clears and he focuses on her again.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea." She swallows harshly against the emotions bubbling up in her chest. "I mean, what if this is a deal-breaker? What if this is it for us?"

"No." Wallace shakes his head decisively. "After all you guys have gone through to get here? No way. He's crazy about you, you know that."

She does know, but… "Is that enough, though? I mean, what if we don't get married or have kids and he starts resenting me for it? Or what if we do, and _I_ can't handle it? That would be even worse."

"Veronica, I…" He stops, considering, before looking her in the eye and saying, "Look, I think this is something you need to be discussing with him."

She scoffs, her chest tight. "We tried. It didn't go well. That's how we ended up in this situation."

"Well, try again," he says simply, shifting in his head so he's facing her head on. "Veronica, you can't put bury your head in the sand and pretend everything's fine, because one day it's all just gonna boil over then there'll be no coming back from it. You need to tackle this head-on and sort it out now, before it's too late."

She looks down at her hands with resignation. "I know."

"Do you?" He probes. "Way I see it, you got two options: one: cut your losses and end things once and for all." Veronica blanches at that, the idea of not being with Logan too horrific to even contemplate. "Which, by your expression, you really don't want to do, or two: sit down and discuss this with Logan calmly and rationally, and try to come to some kind of understanding."

"I know. I just… I don't know how I can..." she trails off.

Wallace studies her for a moment before saying gently, "Just tell him how you feel. Explain _why_ you feel that way. And find out why he feels the way he does. You need to understand each other's motivations before you can find a solution."

"Yeah. Okay." Veronica nods slowly, his words making a lot of sense. "Tell me, how did you get so wise, Fennel?"

He shrugs. "I teach high school kids; it's nothing but relationship melodrama all the time with them. You pick up all kinds of useful advice."

"Well, thank God for high-schoolers then." She smiles, and this time, it's not forced. "Thanks, Wallace."

"Anytime, Mars." He grins. "And, for the record, I'm rooting for you two crazy kids."

"Thanks," she says again, mind whirring.

Wallace was right, she needed to talk to Logan… the only problem was figuring out exactly how to do that without starting another fight.


	14. Chapter 14

After lunch with Wallace, Veronica spends the rest of the afternoon distracted, unable to concentrate, her thoughts focused on Logan instead of on the case she's currently working. She has to talk to him, she knows that, but she has no idea how to broach the subject.

"All right, hon, I'm heading home." Keith pops his head around the door just after six p.m.

Veronica looks up, forcing a slight smile. "Okay."

Keith frowns, his expression turning concerned as he studies her thoughtfully, and Veronica resists the urge to sigh.

 _Not you, too, Dad._

"You sure you don't want to come over for dinner tonight?" he asks, for the second time this afternoon. "Logan's welcome, too."

"No, it's okay. We have plans." Veronica shakes her head, the lie leaving her lips easier than she would have liked. "But, thanks anyway."

"Okay, no problem." He nods. "Well, just let me know if you change your mind."

"Will do." She injects as much brightness as she can into her tone, which unfortunately seems to backfire, because her father steps into the room, eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Veronica, is everything okay? You seem out of sorts today."

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," she says. "Just tired."

He doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway and turns to leave. "Well, okay… I'll see you soon."

"Have a good weekend," she calls after him.

After he's left and the office has fallen quiet—Mac having gone home, too—Veronica struggles through another hour of work before slumping back in her chair and exhaling heavily. Closing her eyes, she lifts her hands to her forehead, massaging her temples.

 _What to do… what to do?_

She should go home, get it over with, but she doesn't know if she can face Logan right now. Doesn't know if they can actually have a civilised conversation about this particular topic without it turning into another fight. She feels terrible about how she reacted the other night. She flew off the handle, got mad, when it's obvious now that all he was trying to was talk. It scares her though, all this talk of families and babies, and she's afraid he's just going to keep pushing and that she's not going to be able to say yes, and it's going to be what drives them apart.

Sucking in a breath and steeling herself, she shuts down her computer, then stands, gathering her jacket and bag, and gets ready to leave. Almost on autopilot, she turns off the lights, shuts the doors, and locks the office, before walking to her car.

She's about halfway home before she turns around and heads towards her father's bungalow instead.

"Veronica?" Keith looks surprised when he opens the door to her.

"Hey, Dad," she says. "I changed my mind."

He looks confused for a second before breaking into a smile and opening the door wider. "Come on in."

She follows him into the kitchen, placing her jacket and bag on the edge of the island, then grabs a drink and perches on one of the stools at the island, watching him prepare the dinner.

"Thought you and Logan had plans tonight?" Keith asks as he chops vegetables.

"Yeah…" She cringes. "I kinda stretched the truth on that one."

"You know, if you don't want to come over, you can just tell me," he says. "You don't have to make excuses."

Veronica sighs. "It's not that, Dad. It's just…"

She trails off, not sure how to articulate what she's feeling right now. Keith turns to her, wiping his hands on a dishcloth.

"Veronica, what's going on?" he asks kindly.

When she fixes him with a questioning look, he just raises an eyebrow.

"Come on, you're my daughter; I can tell when something's wrong."

She closes her eyes briefly, then looks down at her hands. "I…"

Keith puts down the cloth and slides onto the stool beside her. "Did something happen with Logan?"

"I don't know what to do, Dad," she says eventually. "It's been going so well. We've been happy, and I really thought we could make things work this time, but—"

Keith grimaces, a hint of anger in his tone as he says tightly, "What did he do?"

"Oh, no." Veronica shakes her head quickly, realising where his thoughts are going. "It's nothing like that. It's… we're just having some… agreement issues."

" _Agreement_ issues?" He looks bemused.

Veronica sighs, conflicting emotions swirling inside her. "He wants to get married."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she nods. "It was kind of a shock when he suggested it, because I didn't think that was something he wanted."

"Well, I have to admit, I can't really picture it myself: Logan Echolls, a family man?" Keith chuckles, which makes Veronica smile in return. "So, why the change of heart?"

"I think it's because of what happened to Bilbo," she admits. "He said that if anything happened to him in the line of duty, it would be better if we were married. You know, for legal purposes."

"Sounds sensible," remarks Keith.

"Yeah. It is."

"So, what's the problem?" Keith looks puzzled. "I mean, sure, Logan Echolls has never been my ideal choice for a son-in-law, but this should be something to be happy about, right?"

Veronica blinks in surprise. _How can he say that, when he knows…_

"Dad, you know my feelings about marriage. Hell, even Logan knows, but he still brought it up anyway."

"Wait, you _still_ feel that way?" he asks incredulously. "Veronica, I thought that was just a reaction to what happened with your mom and I. A teenage phase, if you will."

"Of _course_ I still feel that way," she says. "I mean, maybe being married would be good at first, but inevitably it always ends in disaster. Adultery, hooking up in sleazy motel rooms, divorce, settlements, bitter custody battles … no, thank you."

"Veronica…" Keith shakes his head, looking concerned. "Marriages can and do work, you know. It's not all gloom and doom. Not everyone ends up like our clients."

"Oh, yeah?" she responds. "Name one long-lasting, happy marriage you know of."

"Uh… well…" He struggles to think.

"My point exactly."

"What about your aunt and uncle in Omaha?" he says suddenly. "They've been married 25 years."

"Okay, so maybe there's one," she concedes. "But this is Neptune, not Nebraska."

"Wait, aren't Mac's parents still together?" he counters then. "That's at least one in Neptune too."

"They are," Veronica concedes. "But I'd say the MacKenzies are more the exception than the rule, wouldn't you?"

Keith just gives her a somewhat sympathetic look, as he shakes his head. "Look, Veronica, you're entitled to your opinions and feelings about this, but remember: a marriage is what you make of it."

"Dad, I don't—" Veronica tries to interject but he continues.

"I know how much it hurt you when your mom left, but you and Logan are _not_ Lianne and I," he tells her sincerely. "She was the love of _my_ life, but I wasn't the love of hers, and because of that, our relationship was never gonna end happily. I was willing to work at it, but she wasn't."

"Yeah." She nods, feeling a little bitter. "I know."

"But, Logan _is_ the love of your life, right?"

"He is."

 _Of course he is. After all this time and everything we've gone through, he's the only one I can see myself with._

"And you're his," adds Keith.

"I think so _._ "

 _I hope so._

Keith smiles. "You are. I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at you."

"Yeah?" A familiar warmth spreads through her chest at the thought.

"And if you're both committed to each other, and to working at your relationship when things get tough, then there's no reason to think it won't work out. _You_ are the only ones who can make it work. You can't just turn your back on the idea just because you're scared that something might go wrong."

"I suppose so," she concedes.

"Unless…" Keith's straightens, his expression a mixture of worry and concern. "I mean, you're not worried about him cheating, are you?"

Veronica blinks, startled by the words. "Oh, God, no. Logan is the most loyal man I've ever met. After what Aaron did? No, he would never."

"Oh…" He looks surprised.

"What?" she asks defensively.

"Nothing. It's just… well, didn't you break up with him in college because something happened with that Sinclair girl?"

"Ah." There's a tightening in her chest at the memory of _that_ particular incident. "No. I mean, that wasn't… well, yes, it hurt me, but he didn't cheat. We weren't together when it happened."

"Right. Sorry, I thought…"

He shakes his head, seemingly changing his mind about what he was going to say, before nodding slowly and changing tack.

"Look, if you love each other, and you're not worried about him cheating… then what's the issue?" Veronica sees the moment understanding dawns on his face. "Wait… Veronica, you know you're _not_ your mother, right?"

She forces a light-hearted tone as she tries to joke, "Well, we _are_ pretty similar."

"No. You're not. You might be her flesh and blood, but you are _not_ her," he says resolutely. "You are not a drunk, and you are not a cheater. You are who you choose to be. If you make the choice not to make the same mistakes she did, then you won't make them."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," she admits.

"Of course I am," he jokes, before looking at her fondly. "And remember, you're not just _her_ daughter, you're mine, too. And I like to think I'm a pretty decent, upstanding citizen."

"I know. And you are."

"Look, I truly believe that if you want something enough, and are willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen, it will." Keith smiles warmly. "If you do that, you and Logan can make it work, whether you're married or not."

"Yeah." Veronica nods, taking that in, her spirits lifting slightly. "I guess we can."

Keith regards her seriously for a moment. "There's something else, isn't there?"

She sighs. "Yeah, there is. He wants kids, too."

"And you don't?" His eyebrows rise.

"No." Veronica shakes her head decisively. "I don't."

"Why not?"

She shrugs. "Lots of reasons."

"Like?" he presses, leaning a forearm on the counter.

"Well, you know, there's the whole 'kids are the ones that suffer in the divorce' thing."

"I thought we just covered that part?" he counters.

"Yeah, well, maybe. But it's still easier if kids aren't involved," she says simply.

He looks like he wants to say more, but instead asks, "Okay, that's one reason. What else?"

"Come on, Dad, you know, I'm not the maternal type. Never have been. Babies and me…we just don't mix," she says. "I have no experience with kids. I mean, okay, there's Hunter, and he's a great boy, but I barely see him and when I do, I don't even know what to say or how to act around him."

Keith smiles at that.

"What?" she questions.

He gives a small chuckle. "Back when your mom and I got married, I felt the same way. I'd never really thought about having children either—it wasn't something I particularly wanted."

"Really?" Veronica's surprised; her father was the best when she was growing up, and he was always great with the kids he dealt with when he was Sheriff.

"But then you came along, and it was love at first sight." His expression softens. "Of course, I was clumsy and clueless and barely knew what I was doing with a tiny baby, but I wouldn't have given you up for the world."

"Yeah?"

"Of course not." He reaches over, tucking her hair behind her ear, like he used to when she was a girl. "You might not think you're good with kids, but it's different when it's your own. You have this precious little bundle in your arms, who is this miracle, this amazing part of you, and all you want to do is love and protect her forever." He smiles wistfully. "There's nothing like it."

Veronica swallows, feeling a rush of emotion at the expression in her father's eyes.

"Maybe that's true," she manages, focusing back on the logistics again. "But, still, we don't exactly lead child-friendly lives, either of us. The PI business is anything but nine to five, and Logan's in the Navy—he deploys every year or two. I'd be a single parent for months at a time. I couldn't do that to a child."

"Eh, it's not so bad." Keith looks at her pointedly. "I mean, you turned out okay, didn't you?"

"Dad, I was 16 when Mom left." She returns the pointed look. "That's not the same thing."

"Maybe not,' he concedes. "But, still... being a single parent isn't the worst thing in the world. It's not like it would be permanent—Logan deploys for what, 6 to 8 months at a time?" She nods. "And you wouldn't be alone; you'd have me, and your friends. We'd help you with whatever you needed."

"I guess…"

Keith reaches over, placing a hand on hers. "Plus, he won't be in the Navy forever."

"You're right. He won't."

Veronica manages a small smile. He's making a lot of sense. She studies him for a moment, before her eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Wait, you aren't just saying all this because you want grandkids, are you?"

He shrugs, looking sheepish. "Well, I can't say it wouldn't be nice."

"Dad…" She pushes his hand away. "Come on."

He grins for a moment, before turning serious again.

"Look, Veronica. What you do with your life, and your body, is your own choice. If you don't want to marry Logan, or have children, you don't have to." He leans a little closer, his tone soft now. "I'm just saying, don't dismiss the idea based on how you felt more than a decade ago. People grow up, their feelings, and opinions, and goals… they change."

"I know they do."

"So, what does Logan think about all this?"

Veronica averts her eyes guiltily. "I, uh—"

"You _have_ discussed it with him, haven't you?"

"Not… exactly," she hedges. "We had a fight."

He sighs. "Oh—"

"Don't ' _Oh, Veronica'_ me," she cuts in quickly. "I screwed up, I know that. He just kept pushing and I didn't know what to say, how to deal with it. We haven't spoken in two days."

He fixes her with that disappointed look of his, the one that makes her feel about five years old. "You need to talk to him, Veronica."

"I know I do." She nods. "I will."

"Good."

Veronica slides off the stool and round to the other side of the island, picking up the knife he put down and resuming chopping the vegetables.

"Veronica…"

"What?" She focuses on chopping.

"What are you doing?"

"Making dinner," she says. "What's it look like?"

"I mean, why are you still here?"

She feigns innocence as she glances up at him. "I thought we were eating?"

"Go home, Veronica," he says sternly. "Talk to Logan."

"But—"

"No buts." His tone is firm. "You can't keep avoiding him. And the longer you leave it, the harder it'll get."

"He might not even be home." It's a feeble protest and she knows it.

"So, then you'll be there when he gets back."

Veronica puts down the knife in defeat. "Okay, fine. I'm going."

She reaches for the jacket and bag she placed on the counter earlier, then moves to her father, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, Veronica." He gives her a fond smile. "I just want you to be happy."

"Yeah, I know."

"And don't worry about Logan. It'll be fine."

"I hope so."

* * *

The condo is dark, and quiet, when Veronica lets herself in. Logan's car is in the driveway, but there's no sign of life in the house.

 _Guess he's taken Pony out._

She closes the door, then makes her way down the hall toward the bedroom and changes into a tank-top and sweats. Running a brush through her hair, she heads into the kitchen, grabs a glass of water and a cereal bar and takes a seat on the sofa. She doesn't bother to turn on the light, instead just letting the moonlight flood in through the French doors.

While she waits, she runs through her conversations with Wallace and her dad earlier, trying to figure out what she's going to say to Logan. She's still undecided when the front door opens, and Pony comes bounding into the house, followed closely by the man in question.

Logan stops when he spots her on the couch, Pony barking excitedly in her direction, straining on her leash.

"Veronica?" he asks, sounding puzzled. "Why are you in the dark?"

She stands, her hands sliding down over her sweats as she does so, and steps toward him. He moves further into the living room, meeting her halfway. She avoids his eyes as she runs a hand over Pony's head in greeting.

"I was waiting for you," she says finally, looking up at him.

"Okay…" He looks a little bemused and Veronica can feel the awkward tension fizzling between them.

She takes a steadying breath. "We need to talk."

He nods, his expression guarded. "We do."

"Can we sit down?" She gestures toward the couch.

"Sure," he says. "Just let me…"

He gestures to Pony, then the kitchen.

"Okay."

While he's moving around the kitchen area, putting out a bowl of water for the dog, and pouring a glass of orange juice for himself, Veronica turns on the table lamp in the corner, then occupies herself with pulling at a loose thread on one of the cushions. She doesn't look up until the cushions dip beside her and his knee appears in her field of view.

"Okay, let's talk," he says.

She lifts her head to find his dark eyes studying her, making her feel exposed, vulnerable. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Veronica?" he prods.

"I'm sorry, Logan," she says eventually. "I've, uh… I've been avoiding you."

"No shit." His tone is flat, unreadable, and Veronica frowns, unable to tell if he's being serious or not. He sighs, glancing toward the ceiling, mouth opening slightly as he does so. "Sorry, that didn't… Carry on."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," she says. "I overreacted."

"I noticed," his tone is still flat, but there's a slight upturn to his lips now. "What's going on, Veronica?"

She takes a deep breath, twisting her fingers together in her lap, before forging ahead. "This last year with you—long deployments not withstanding—has been the best of my life. I never thought we could ever get to this point… but here we are."

"Yeah." Logan nods, a slight smile twitching at his lips. "Here we are."

"It's been going so well, you and me. The best it's ever been with us… right?"

His hand slides over hers, stilling the movement of her fingers as he nods. "Right."

"I'm happy, just as we are right now," she adds. "I don't want that to change."

"It won't."

"I didn't think it would, but, Logan…marriage, kids? That would change _everything_. And I just… I can't…"

"Veronica…" Logan says softly, his thumb running over the back of her hand. "I don't want to dismiss your feelings, okay? I want to _understand_ them. I need to understand why you got so mad. I mean, what is it you're scared of?"

Veronica takes a moment to collect her thoughts before she starts speaking.

"I… I used to want all of those things," she starts, looking down at their joined hands. "When I was a kid, I would see how happy my parents looked, and I decided that's what I wanted for my future. I wanted to fall in love, get married, have a family. I wanted to be happy."

She turns her hands beneath his, linking their fingers together.

"When my mom started drinking, Dad would pretend nothing was wrong, but the cracks were starting to show," she continues. "Then when Lilly died, everything fell apart and my whole world came crashing down around me."

"Veronica…" Logan murmurs sadly, gently squeezing her hands.

She swallows, pushing away the bad memories. "After that, all I saw was the truth, everywhere: that there was no such thing as a happy ending, that marriage always ended in heartbreak, and children were the ones who suffered. I swore back then that I would never put myself, or any children, in that position."

"I get that, Veronica," Logan says softly when she takes a breath. "I do. Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up families can be. You're not your mother any more than I am mine, or my father, for that matter."

"I know I'm not." She nods. She's always had the niggling fear that one day, she might turn out just like her mom; it's only recently that she's started to believe she won't. "Believe it or not, you're the second person to say that to me today."

"Oh?"

"I went to see my dad after work," says Veronica. "We talked. He said some things that made sense."

"Yeah?"

"Look, I'm not saying I'm changing my mind," she admits. "Because I can't just change how I feel overnight."

"I know."

"I haven't even considered the prospect of getting married since I was about 12," she continues. "And I'm terrible with kids, Logan. I'm not maternal at all—I wouldn't even know what to do with a baby, let alone a toddler, or an older kid. Plus, there's all your deployments." She looks up at him pleadingly. "Logan, I don't think I could handle being alone and looking after a child without you for all that time. It wouldn't be fair on them, or on you or me either."

"No, I guess you're right."

She extracts her hands from his and gets up from the sofa, pacing in front of the coffee table.

"And what if something were to happen to you, huh?" The words are tumbling out now. "It would be hard enough for _me_ to handle, but our children too? God, I don't even want to think about that."

"Veronica…" Logan rises from the couch, reaching out to stop her. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

She gives a scoff. "We've had this conversation before, remember? Something _could_ happen, you know that. No matter how careful you are."

"Look, I get that you're scared, okay?" He runs his hands down her arms. "And unsure, and confused. But I am, too. I'm shit-scared that something could happen to you, or that I couldn't keep our kids safe, or I might not see them grow up, or they might resent me for being gone half the time."

"Really?" That makes her stop and look at him. "You worry about that stuff?"

"Of course I do." He looks almost offended she would think otherwise. "I'm well aware of the risks, of what could happen if we brought children into the world."

"But I don't understand," She frowns. "If you're afraid too, why do you want this? Why is it so important to you?"

His lips tug up into a soft smile, his expression filled with affection as his fingers come up to trace along her temple.

"Because I love you. So much." The tenderness in his tone makes her feel choked up. "Because I want to share this experience with you. I want to finally have a real family, to give my children the loving home I never experienced."

Veronica swallows, her heart pounding and head feeling light in response to the wistful tone in his voice.

"And I know we would, Veronica," he continues earnestly. "Because you're the most loving, most giving, most generous person I know, and there's no one else I would want to have children with, ever. Look, you might not believe it, but I think you would be an amazing mother."

She lets out a soft snort, pushing down the lump in her throat. "Wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Veronica." He shakes his head. "I'm not saying we'd be perfect parents, because we probably wouldn't be, but I do know that I would—that _we_ would—do everything in our power to love and protect them, to make sure they know right from wrong, and to hopefully make sure they make the right choices."

"Logan…" Veronica's voice cracks as she speaks as something in her chest gives way, the tension slipping from her body. "I—I don't know what to…"

She trails off, then looks at him straight on, gathering herself for her next words, the ones she's dreading hearing the answer to.

"Is this going to be a deal-breaker for you?" she says cautiously. "I mean, if we didn't get married, and we didn't have children… would you be okay with that?"

He studies at her thoughtfully for a long moment, before saying seriously, "I love you, Veronica."

"That's not an answer, Logan," she chides. "I need to know you won't resent me—or hate me—if it doesn't happen; if I can't give that to you."

" _Of course_ I won't," he says, like it should be obvious… though she can't quite allow herself to believe it.

"You say that now, but—"

He cuts her off with a finger to her lips. "I mean it. I love you. I will always want to be with you, no matter what."

"Really?" She has to be sure.

"Really," he says sincerely.

Veronica nods. "So, where does this leave us?"

"Where do you want it to leave us?"

"Well, I want to be able to say, ' _yes, of course I'll marry you, Logan; I'd love to have children with you'_ ," she admits. "But honestly, I still don't know if it's something I can do."

"Just tell me you'll consider it," he says, his expression verging on pleading. "That you won't rule it out completely, forever."

"I'll consider it," she says truthfully. "And I'm sorry, again. For not listening to you; for getting mad and storming out. I should have handled it better."

"I'm sorry, too," he admits. "I knew you were uncomfortable with it, and I still didn't let it go. But, please, Veronica, next time, just talk to me, okay?"

"Okay. I will."

His arms come around her, enveloping her in his warmth as he hugs her tightly. She drops her head to his chest, returning the embrace, revelling in the feel of his strong body surrounding her.

Maybe things will be all right after all. Maybe they'll be able to get through this and come out the other side stronger than ever.

* * *

The next morning, when Logan steps out of the en-suite bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, he stops short at the sight before him. Veronica is sprawled out lazily on the bed, sheet bunched around her waist, leaving her chest bare, exposed to his gaze.

"Hey," she murmurs softly, watching him from under hooded eyes.

Her cheeks are still flushed, hair in disarray, from their early-morning exploits, and he can't help but smile indulgently. He moves to the bed, leaning down to kiss her. Just before their lips meet, he whispers a soft, "Hi."

Her arms come around his neck, tugging him closer as she deepens the kiss. He smiles against her mouth and allows her to pull him down onto the bed. When his damp skin comes into contact with hers, she lets out a sound of surprise, breaking the kiss.

"Ugh, you're all wet."

He chuckles. "Isn't that normally a good thing?"

"Not in this case."

She shoves him away and he rolls off, settling beside her with a grin, clutching the towel to his waist. She shakes her head, an amused smile playing on her lips, then slides closer, only keeping a slight distance as she rests her head on his chest. He moves to accommodate her, arm coming around her shoulders, fingers caressing the soft skin of her back.

"We're okay, right?" she says softly, her fingers tracing his chest.

"Yeah, we're okay."

"I love you, too," she says after a moment, before adding, "Just realised I didn't say it back last night."

"You didn't have to, you know."

"Even so…" She gives a one-shouldered shrug against him, then lifts her head, stretching up and gently kissing his cheek. "I do. Love you, that is."

He tightens his arm around her, tugging her close, turning his head so he can kiss her. Veronica presses herself against his side, one leg sliding over his, and snuggles closer, ignoring the dampness of his skin now.

"You know, I used to be so scared of settling down, of wanting a family," he says softly. "For years, I was convinced that I would turn out just like… _him_. I was convinced that if I ever had a wife, or children, I would eventually end up hurting them, because… well, it's in my genes, you know? What if, no matter how hard I tried not to, I just snapped one day and—"

"Hey, that's not going to happen," she says quickly. "You would never hurt someone you loved. It's not in you to do that."

He lets out a scoff. "Pretty sure I've hurt you enough times in the past."

"That wasn't physical, Logan," she reminds him. "You would never lay a hand on me like that; I know you wouldn't. And you would never hurt a child either. You're just not capable of it."

"Yeah… " he admits. "I do know, now… I mean, it's taken a long time to realise, but I get it now: that it's my choice—if I don't want to turn out like him, I can choose not to."

"Exactly." Her arm snakes around his waist.

"I've decided I want the Echolls name to mean something, I want it to be remembered for more than just what my—what Aaron did."

"It is, Logan. It will be," she tells him. "You've turned your life around. You're a decorated naval officer now, you protect and serve your country. If that's not something the Echolls name can be remembered for, I don't know what is."

"Yeah… but I don't want that to be _it_ ," he continues. "I don't want the line to just end with me; I want it to carry on, I want to leave a legacy that is more than just a famous movie star-turned-murderer and his former screw-up turned military officer son."

"Oh…" Her voice is soft, unreadable.

"I'm not trying to pressure you or anything," he says quickly. "I just want you to understand where I'm coming from."

"No, it's okay. I get it," she says then. "We _should_ be talking about this. And I want that for you, I do. I want to be able to give you everything you need."

"Veronica, you don't have to—"

"There's just this part of me that keeps holding me back," she continues, as if he hasn't spoken. "I can't explain it; it's like whenever I start thinking maybe I can be happy with it, you know…marriage and kids… this voice in my head comes along and shuts it down, and the fear rushing comes back." Logan swallows at her despondent tone. "I'm working on it; I'm really trying to get over it… but all those years of conditioning myself to believe it's a terrible idea are hard to overcome."

"I know," he says in understanding.

They fall quiet for a few moments, before Logan decides a change of subject is definitely needed.

"Okay, enough of all this serious talk." His arm tightens around her shoulders, urging her even closer. "Come here."

She complies, lifting her head to meet his lips as he pulls her on top of him. She stretches herself out over him and his body begins to react to her closeness.

"Again?" she murmurs, as her hips slide against his, only the towel separating their naked bodies.

"Definitely again," he says between kisses. "We've got several days to make up for, remember?"

She sighs into his mouth, and, taking that as an invitation, he reaches over to the bedside table, fumbling for more protection. Veronica lifts herself up so he can unhook the towel and slide the condom on, then settles back over him again. Logan runs a hand up over her back and into her hair, pulling her down, lips meeting, his tongue tangling with hers. As they kiss, Veronica straddles his hips, positioning herself over him so he can slide up into her. A soft moan escapes his lips as her tight, wet heat surrounds him. Veronica buries her face in the crook of his neck and Logan lets his other hand drift up over her back, holding her tight as they begin moving together slowly, sensually.

They're going to be fine, he thinks, as the pleasure builds and they climb towards climax together. No matter what happens in the future, they'll be fine.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:**

Apologies for the long wait between updates. The plan was to keep to the weekly schedule, but unfortunately I had trouble with this chapter and it's taken until now to have it ready for posting.

So, although it's not Wednesday, here's the next chapter anyway :).

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

The silence in the car is broken by the sound of humming; Green Day, if she's not mistaken. Veronica grits her teeth, lowers the binoculars, and shoots Logan an irritated look.

"Shh."

The humming stops. "Huh?"

"You're distracting me."

He snorts a laugh. "From what, sitting in the dark?"

"It's not funny." She swats his arm. "I'm trying to concentrate here."

"Veronica, just face it: the guy's not showing up." He throws up a hand, gesturing to their surroundings. "This is a waste of time."

"Hey," she returns. "I don't tell you how to do _your_ job."

"Fine."

He slumps further down in the passenger seat, resting his hands over his stomach, his head pressing back against the headrest.

"Thank you." She lifts the binoculars again, focusing on the yacht once more.

It's been a week since their big fight and subsequent make-up, and things are largely back to normal again. They're down at the marina tonight, on the trail of what appeared at first to be a regular cheating spouse case. She's been hired by the wife of a prominent Neptune businessman to investigate her husband, whom she suspects is cheating. She's been trailing the guy for three days now, though Veronica isn't convinced about the affair. The man is definitely up to something, but she hasn't found any evidence of him engaging in tryst-like activities as of yet.

Beside her, Logan clicks his tongue a couple of times before sitting up and rifling through the pile of CDs she keeps in the glove compartment. She eyes him, but remains quiet. Apparently not finding anything he likes, he sits back again with a sigh.

"I'm bored."

"So I can see." She shakes her head. "You didn't have to come, you know."

"What and stay home alone watching TV on a Saturday night? No thanks," he says sceptically. "Besides, if you recall, we were supposed to be on a date right now, but you bailed on me for _this_. If I'm here, I can at least pretend we're doing something semi-date-like."

That gives her pause. "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

"Not your fault." He shrugs, then looks out of the window. "So, how long do we give him?"

Veronica glances at the clock; it's just after 11 p.m. and they've been sitting here for almost two hours, with no sign of, well, anything.

"Not sure. Another hour, maybe?"

"An _hour_? Seriously?" Logan huffs. "Geez, Veronica."

She can't help but grin. "As I said, it was your choice to come."

"Yeah, don't remind me." He rolls his eyes. There's a beat before, "So, if we have an hour to kill… wanna make out?"

"Logan!" She tries for exasperated but the effect is ruined by the smile tugging at her lips.

"Come on," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console, his breath on her cheek as he whispers, "Live a little."

Veronica tries to ignore him, but when his lips press against that sensitive spot behind her ear, and his palm lands on her upper leg, his fingers slipping between her thighs, she can't help giving a soft sigh.

"Stop it," she says, though it comes out more playful than she intended. "I'm trying to work here."

"So?" He grins against her neck. "It's not like you're swamped right now."

His fingers start tracing small circles on her inner thigh, over her jeans, and her stomach muscles clench involuntarily in response to the tingles spreading along her nerves. When his tongue darts out to lick her sensitive skin, she groans and, unable to take it anymore, drops the binoculars and turns her head so their mouths meet.

"That's more like it," he whispers against her lips.

His hand slides higher up the inside of her thigh, as his tongue tangles with hers, and her legs part involuntarily. He cups her sex through the denim as his other hand comes up to her jaw, urging her closer. Veronica shudders when his finger strokes along the seam of her jeans, causing a rush of heat deep in her core.

 _God, this feels good._

She's on the verge of saying, _fuck it_ , and climbing onto his lap, but the sound of a car door slamming in the distance pulls her out of the pleasurable haze and she breaks the kiss, immediately on the alert as her eyes scan their surroundings.

"Shit," she hisses, pushing at Logan's chest. "Someone's here."

"What?" he blinks, looking dazed.

"Move, Logan," she says urgently, reaching for her camera. "I need to get pictures."

With a disappointed sigh, he complies, flopping back into the passenger seat again. "Just when things were getting good."

"Hold that thought, okay?" she says, lifting the camera and snapping away.

Thirty minutes later, she's got the photos she needs, and as soon as she's put the camera away, Logan decides he's had enough of waiting and drags her into the backseat for a heated make-out session.

"Mmm, we don't do this nearly often enough," he murmurs between kisses.

His hands run down her sides and sliding around to cup her bottom, tugging her against him. A soft moan escapes her lips as his hard length presses against her.

"No, we don't." She grins against his mouth.

His fingers slip beneath the hem of her top, palms sliding up over the bare skin of her back, making her shiver as his mouth leaves hers and he starts kissing a trail down over her neck. His fingers move across a sensitive spot under her arm and she giggles in response, wriggling away.

"Hey, stop it," she admonishes, swatting at his shoulder as she shifts away from his roaming fingers. "You know, I think we're getting too old for this 'making out in the backseat' malarkey. It's embarrassing; like we're horny teenagers or something."

Logan lifts his head, grinning up at her with a wicked glint in his eye.

"Veronica, we're _never_ too old for this. It's fun. And exciting." He kisses her again, one hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. "Besides, when was the last time we actually did it in the back of a car, huh? In my opinion, this is long overdue."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe it is." She grins, heat pooling in her belly as he rocks his hips against hers. "But I'm blaming you if we get caught. Now, _that_ would be embarrassing."

* * *

Veronica paces across the kitchen, back and forth, as she calls Logan's number yet again. She's lost count of how many times she's tried his cell in the last three hours, how many messages she's left, but he's not picking up. It's a Wednesday evening in late April and they were supposed to be out on a much-needed dinner date tonight—the last couple of weeks having been pretty hectic with work—and Logan promised he would be back by six, but it's after nine now and there's still no sign of him.

"Come on, Logan. Where are you?" she mutters.

As if she can sense something's wrong, Pony whines from her position on her bed in the corner of the kitchen, looking up at Veronica with sad eyes.

"I know, girl," she says, hanging up in defeat. "I'm worried about him, too."

She crosses the kitchen and crouches before the dog, ruffling her fur. "Where is he, huh, Pony? Why isn't he answering his phone?"

Pony looks up at her with wide, soulful eyes and gives another soft whine.

"Okay. One more time."

She shifts, sitting on the floor beside the dog bed as she dials Logan's number. Again.

No answer. Again.

She hangs up, slumping back against the cupboards, absently stroking Pony's ear as she tries to figure out what to do next. She's just contemplating calling her dad when her phone starts ringing, the shrill noise harsh in the silence of the condo.

She glances down to see Logan's name lighting up the screen.

"Logan? Thank God," she answers, giving a sigh of relief. "Where are you?"

"Uh, Veronica? Hey, this is Chaos," comes the hesitant voice on the other end.

"Chaos?" She sits up straight. "What's going on? Where's Logan… is he okay?"

"They haven't told you?" Chaos curses softly. "No, of course, they wouldn't."

Veronica freezes, fear gripping her chest. "Told me what?"

"There's, uh… there's been an accident," he says slowly. "During training today. Logan, he—"

"Oh, God."

Her blood turns cold. _No, please, no. Not Logan._

"Is… is he—? He's not—?" She can't get the words out, the thought too unbearable to comprehend.

"Oh, no," says Chaos quickly. "He's okay… but he's in the hospital."

Veronica exhales heavily, her heart pounding. "What happened?"

"We don't know, exactly," he says. "Something went wrong during his test flight this morning. He had to eject."

"Where is he?" Veronica stands from the floor, looking around for her purse.

"Sharp Coronado Hospital. It's just off the base."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay. Drive safe."

As Veronica ends the call, her eyes slide closed, one hand holding the phone to her chest as she tries to calm her frantically beating heart.

Accident. Ejected. Hospital.

 _God, isn't that, like, still really dangerous… ejecting from a plane?_ she thinks absently, grabbing her jacket and Pony's leash. _Don't people die from that?_

She drops the dog off at Keith's with a quick explanation, then hightails it down the 5 to San Diego.

* * *

"Where is he?" are the first words out of her mouth when she spots Chaos in the hospital reception and marches up to him.

"Veronica." He gives a sympathetic smile, stepping forward to offer a hug. "You made it."

"Fast as I could." She returns the hug, then steps back. "Is he okay?"

"He's… he was very lucky," he says. "Come on, I'll take you up."

She nods, letting him lead her over to the elevator. They ride up to the fourth floor, then walk along the squeaky-clean, disinfectant-smelling corridor. Veronica shudders; she hasn't been inside a hospital since her father's accident last year. It's not exactly her favourite place to be at the best of times.

"He's in here," says Chaos softly, stopping in front of one of the doors. "He was sleeping last time I looked in."

Veronica frowns, realising how quiet it is on this floor. "Is it okay for me to be here? Aren't visiting hours over?"

"I called in a favour." Chaos gives a lopsided grin and a shrug as he opens the door. "Come on."

Veronica steps inside the small, stark room, her eyes focusing immediately on Logan, who is lying in the bed, propped up by pillows. As Chaos suggested, he's asleep. Other than his normally golden-tan skin now looking pale and drawn, he doesn't seem too bad. There's a nasty-looking bruise forming over his temple, his right arm is in a sling, and there's a cast on his elevated left leg.

"Logan…" Veronica moves to his side, taking his free hand in hers and squeezing gently. "It's okay, I'm here."

He doesn't stir.

"I think he's knocked out on the pain meds," offers Chaos from the doorway.

Veronica sinks down into the chair beside the bed as she looks over at him. "But, he's okay, right? He's gonna be okay?"

"That's what they're saying." He nods, moving further into the room. "He has a broken collarbone and fractured lower leg, but other than some hefty bruises, that's about it. All things considered, he escaped lightly, though the doctors are worried about spine compression. They want to keep him in for a couple of days to do an MRI and check he's okay."

"Right. Okay." She frowns. "So, what happened, exactly?"

"I don't know for sure," he says. "We were out on a test flight this afternoon and about twenty minutes in, he came over the radio, said something wasn't right and that he was going back to base. Next thing I know, he's calling a Mayday and the jet's heading toward the ocean. He got out in time, parachuted safely into the water, but ejecting isn't exactly easy on the body. He was lucky to come out of it with only the collarbone and leg injuries."

"Yeah…"

She turns her attention to Logan again, linking her fingers with his.

"I'll, uh, give you some time," says Chaos from behind her.

"Okay." Veronica nods, not taking her eyes off Logan.

She hears the door close behind Chaos as he leaves.

"Hey, it's me," she says softly, reaching up with her free hand to run her fingers along his cheek. "You scared me tonight. I didn't know where you were."

She stands, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple—the non-bruised one—before saying, "I'm so glad you're okay."

He gives a soft groan and her eyes snap to his face as she lowers herself to the chair again. He shifts a little, giving a grimace, then his eyes flutter open. He blinks a couple of times, then focuses on her, a small frown marring his features.

"V'ronica? What's going on?"

"Logan." She sits forward, tightening her grip on his hand. "You're awake."

"Where—?" He squints, then looks around the room. "I'm in the hospital?"

"Yeah, the one near the base," she confirms. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I uh…" He frowns in concentration. "I was running a test flight. It was going fine until… I think the pressure dropped. There was nothing I could do; I was losing altitude fast… so I pulled the ejection gun. Then—" He stops with a grimace, frown deepening. "I don't—"

"Hey, it's okay," she says comfortingly, rubbing his arm. "You don't have to—I'm just glad you're okay. I was so worried when you didn't come home."

"How long have I been here?"

"Not long. A few hours." She glances at the clock. "It's ten-thirty Wednesday night."

He tries to shift in the bed, but lets out a yelp of pain as it jars his shoulder.

"Don't try to move." She places her free hand lightly on his chest. "You've broken your collarbone. And your leg."

"Shit."

"At least you're okay. You're alive," she assures him. "Chaos said they want to do an MRI and keep you under observation for a couple of days—something about possible spinal compression."

"Right." He sighs heavily. "Guess this means I'll be unfit to fly for… well, who knows how long."

Veronica blinks. "You're seriously thinking about flying right now?"

His lips pull up in a small semblance of a smirk. "I'm a fighter pilot, Veronica. Flying is _all_ we think about."

She gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, kind of glad that he's making light of the situation right now, because she's still struggling to remain calm and not think about what _could_ have happened.

"I certainly hope it isn't _all_ you think about," she says lightly. "Please tell me you don't fantasise about cockpits while we're in bed."

He grins now; it's a tired grin, but a grin all the same. "Only about you being inside one with me."

She forces a soft chuckle. "Nice save."

"Thanks." He smiles, catching her eye, then frowns slightly. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking _you_ that?" she counters quickly, her heart pounding. When he just looks at her expectantly, she continues. "It's just… you were so lucky today, Logan. You could have _died_ ; I could have lost you forever… and you're sitting here making jokes."

His face falls, turning serious.

"Hey," he says, extracting his hand from hers, lifting it to cup her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I'm fine, okay? I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nods. "Yeah, I know."

"Look, I wasn't going that fast and I was only at a few thousand feet," he says. "Ejecting in those circumstances isn't that high-risk."

"I don't care. You fucking scared me, Logan." She tries for stern, but her voice trembles as she speaks, and Logan's expression softens.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gives an apologetic smile, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Hey, come here."

She rises from the chair, moving closer so his hand can slide around the back of her neck, as he tugs her in for a kiss.

* * *

Logan is released from the hospital on Friday. Veronica takes the morning off work to head down to San Diego and pick him up, driving him back to the house. The hospital has given him a wheelchair, since he can't use crutches with his arm in a sling, and as Veronica pushes him into the condo, he can't help but feel pretty useless right now; unable to even move anywhere without her help.

The MRI yesterday showed only a very slight spinal compression—not enough to cause any major problems—and the doctors tell him he's very lucky to have gotten off so lightly. He gets that, he does, and he's grateful to be alive… but it's still frustrating as hell to be stuck with even just a broken collarbone and fractured fibula.

His OC came to see him yesterday, and the first thing Logan asked was when he could get back in the cockpit again. The commanding officer just gave him a sympathetic look and told him he was being deemed unfit to fly until further notice. It's going to take at least two months for his injuries to heal and possibly even longer before he'll be in full health again. Ejecting from a fighter jet, no matter how lucky you are, takes its toll on the body and there's no guarantee he'll be able to get back in that pilot seat again.

"Are you okay?" Veronica asks as he makes himself comfortable on the couch in their condo, his casted leg elevated by cushions and sling still holding his shoulder in place.

"Do you want something to drink? Or eat? Something to read?" She flutters around him, looking nervous, as she grabs the TV remote and shoves it into his free hand. "Here, have this. Watch whatever you want. I have to get back to the office—are you going to be all right on your own?"

"Veronica, stop," he says softly. "I'm fine. Just go to work. I'll be okay; I have Pony to keep me company."

At the sound of her name, the dog lifts her head, then pads over to his side. With a smile, he drops the remote and reaches over to pet her. She nuzzles his palm, then settles down on the floor beside him.

"See? We'll be fine."

She hesitates. "If you're sure…"

"I am."

"Okay." She nods, then moves into the kitchen and starts collecting things, bringing them over to the coffee table and arranging them within his reach. "Pain meds, water, snacks, remote… uhh, magazines. You have your phone, right?"

"Yeah, it's right here." He pats his pocket.

"I'll be back around five, but call me if you need _anything_."

"I will." He nods.

"Okay." She leans down to kiss him. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Veronica is quiet at dinner that evening. She stopped for food on her way home, so now they're curled up in the living room surrounded by take-out cartons—well, actually, Veronica is the one curled up, over in the armchair, while Logan remains sprawled out along the sofa, leg still elevated.

Despite what he told her earlier about being fine, being stuck at home all afternoon and unable to go anywhere kind of sucked. Sure, he isn't that badly injured, but while he can deal with just a broken leg, the collarbone is a pain in the ass. He didn't feel too bad this morning but as the afternoon wore on and the meds started wearing off, the pain returned. He took more pills as soon as he could, but there's still a dull ache in the background which he can't seem to get rid of.

"You okay?" Veronica asks when he reaches over and places his half-eaten carton of Pad Thai on the coffee table. "I usually have to wrestle you for some of that."

"Yeah." He tries to shrug, but pain shoots through his shoulder and he grimaces. "Just tired. And in pain."

She frowns in concern, putting down her carton and sitting forward in the chair. "Anything I can do?"

He shakes his head. "No. Unless, of course, you have magical healing abilities or a time machine."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs softly.

"Yeah, well. I've had worse."

"Yeah…"

She makes a face, like she's remembering some of his previous injuries, then stills, eyeing the sofa in contemplation, until Logan gets curious.

"What are you thinking?"

"Just wondering how awkward it would be if I tried to join you over there." She gives a small smile.

Logan looks down at himself, at the ungainly plaster cast and the sling, and then at the free space on the couch—or lack thereof—and gives her an apologetic look.

"Sorry…don't think that's gonna work."

"Yeah, guess not." She sits forward, gesturing to the discarded Pad Thai carton as she changes the subject. "Hey, you done?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Great. More for me." Her voice is light, playful as she digs in, but Logan can hear the false cheerfulness in her tone.

"Hey," he says softly a moment later. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She glances up at him briefly. "I'm fine. Just… long afternoon."

He nods, though he's not convinced that's all it is.

By the time dinner is finished and Veronica's taken Pony out for her evening walk, Logan is seriously flagging, the pain meds and general exhaustion catching up to him. Veronica helps him into the en-suite bathroom and then into bed, propping him up against a mountain of pillows and elevating his leg again, before getting ready herself and sliding in beside him.

"Comfortable?"

He shifts a little, giving a grimace as pain shoots through his clavicle. "Eh, not really, but it's the best it's gonna get."

"Can I…?" She gestures to the space between them.

"Sure." He smiles. "Come here."

Gingerly, she shifts, curling up beside him, avoiding his busted leg. Carefully, so as not to jolt his shoulder, he slides his arm around her waist, smiling as she gently rests her head against his chest.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"Me, too," he agrees.

She sighs. "You know, the only reason I even knew you were in the hospital was because Chaos called me from your phone."

"I know, I'm sorry," he says. "I would have called myself, but—"

"No, that's not what I meant," she says quickly, shaking her head against his shoulder. "Chaos was surprised I didn't already know. But of course, how would I?"

"Veronica, what are you getting at?"

There's a pause before takes a breath and says, "I think you were right. It _would_ make things easier."

"Huh?" Logan's confused; she's not making much sense and his mind is more than a little jumbled right now. "What would make things easier?"

"Being married."

Logan blinks in surprise, not expecting that at all.

"I mean, if we were," she continues, "I would have gotten that call hours earlier, but it would have been from the hospital, or the Navy, or whoever's responsible for making the calls. I could have been right there with you the whole time."

"That's true." He nods in agreement. He opens his mouth to say more, but she continues quickly.

"I mean, what if it had been more serious? What if you had—?" She takes a shaky breath, resting a hand over his heart. He looks down at her hand, feeling a tightening in his chest at the warm touch. "You could have been dying in that hospital and I wouldn't have even known."

"No," he says softly. "You wouldn't…"

"So, maybe we should. Get married, I mean."

"Wait, what?" He tries to straighten, then winces, thinking better of it. "Veronica… are you serious?"

She nods against his shoulder. "I am. It really hit home for me, you know… that you could really be in trouble and I would just be going about my life with no idea."

"Yeah, but—" He frowns.

"I mean, not right now, or anything… cos, you know…" she clarifies, gesturing to his injuries. "But when you're better."

Logan can't quite get his head around this. Is she really saying she's ready to get married? Just like that? It's a rather sudden turnaround for someone who just a few weeks ago was adamant she didn't want to get married.

"Veronica…" He urges her to sit up and look at him. She complies. "Do you really mean that? Because if this is just a reaction to what happened the other day, then I don't think—"

"I mean it." She cuts him off, then pauses to think for a second. "At least, I'm like, 80% sure I mean it. I just… look, I'm still not quite sold on the idea of marriage in general, but I also don't ever want to be in a position again where something happens to you and I have no idea."

"Okay. I get that." Logan nods, his heart pounding as the implications of her words sink in. _She's actually seriously considering this_. "But… look, it's been a long week, so let's, uh… let's talk about it properly when I'm better. How's that sound?"

"Yeah, okay." She nods in agreement. "That sounds good."

She stills, studying him for a long moment, before her lips curl up in a soft smile. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too, Veronica."

Her smile widens as she leans closer, touching her lips to his in barely a whisper of a kiss. The simple caress sends a shiver down his spine and he leans in for more, his arm tugging her as close as his injuries will allow. She cups his face in her hands, deepening the kiss as she rises up. It's only when she moves to straddle his hips and the movement jolts his arm, causing him to hiss in pain, that he realises this is a bad idea.

"Oh, shit!" she exclaims, pulling back quickly and shifting back onto the mattress. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He smiles through his grimace. "Maybe we just avoid doing that for a while, huh?"

"Yeah, good idea," she agrees, though her disappointed expression says otherwise.

"Come here." He holds his arm out to her in invitation and she curls up beside him once more, slipping her arm around his waist.

As he holds her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, he can't help but frown, a niggling thought settling at the back of his mind. As incredible as it would be to marry Veronica, he's not sure she's wanting it for the right reasons. If they do get married, he wants it to be because _she_ wants to, because it makes her happy, and not because it's the 'practical' thing to do under the circumstances. And he can't help but feel she's thinking with the pragmatic part of her mind and ignoring the emotional part.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Veronica pulls open the door to the small coffee shop located around the corner from Mars Investigations, frantically scanning the room and letting out a sigh of relief that her lunch companion is still here.

"Hey," she says as she sinks into the spare seat at the table. "Sorry I'm late. Got held up at the office."

"Hey, Veronica. Don't worry about it." Sarah smiles, patting her rounded stomach. "Junior here seems to have decided to wreak havoc on my bladder all morning, so I only just got here too."

"Sorry… that sounds… uncomfortable." Veronica makes a sympathetic face.

"It's not the most pleasant feeling in the world," Sarah agrees, her hand coming to rest on the bump. "But only eight weeks to go, so that's good."

"Yeah…" Veronica trails off, eyes lowering to Chaos's wife's—her friend's—baby bump for a moment, before smiling brightly and saying, "So, what do you want for lunch? I'm buying."

"Just a ginger tea and a Caesar salad, thanks."

"Coming right up."

Veronica orders at the counter, then carries their drinks over to the table. They make small talk until the food arrives.

"So, how's Logan?" asks Sarah a few minutes later, between bites of her salad.

"He's doing okay." Veronica nods. "Going stir-crazy stuck at home, though."

"I can imagine." Sarah grins. "Tim was laid up with the flu for two weeks a couple years back and he was just insufferable. It's like it's the end of the world if he can't fly for a few days."

"Tell me about it," Veronica agrees wholeheartedly.

It's funny, because Logan's always just been, well, _Logan_ to her; even after all this time, she's never really thought of him as 'a fighter pilot', but the last couple weeks she's actually gotten a glimpse of what all the other military girlfriends and wives must have to deal with.

"But he's healing well?"

"Yeah, he is," she says. "He's just pissed he has to use a wheelchair and can't get around on his own yet." She puts her head in her hands as she sighs. "God, it's gonna be a _long_ couple of months."

"Yeah, I'll bet…"

A smile tugs at Sarah's lips and Veronica shoots her a glare. "Hey, don't laugh. It's not funny!"

"I know, I know. Sorry."

Sarah's hand falls on her belly again, and Veronica's eyes follow the movement.

"So, uh, how's Tim dealing with the whole pregnancy, having a baby thing?" she asks.

"Yeah, really well." A slow smile spreads across Sarah's face. "He's been on a DIY craze lately." She leans forward. "Let me tell you, it's a good thing Logan's laid up at the moment, because Tim would have him building cribs and painting walls until all hours."

Veronica snorts a laugh at that. "Logan doing DIY? Struggling to picture that. He's always been of the 'pay someone to do that' school of thought."

"Oh, you'd be surprised what the Navy can do to entitled rich kids," says Sarah airily.

"Really?" She's surprised at that.

"Yeah, he's helped us out a couple times with projects around the house. He's not bad."

"Hmm," Veronica muses. "He's been holding out on me. Might have to put this newfound DIY knowledge to good use when he's better. There are a few things I need doing around the house."

Sarah grins. "Go for it."

Silence falls for a moment, before Veronica says hesitantly, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How do you guys do it?" she asks. "I mean, being married, having a kid on the way, when he's away so much?"

"It's…" Sarah starts, then stops, expression turning serious as she leans forward as much as she can with the baby bump in the way. "Look, Veronica, I could tell you that it's easy, and that it works because we love each other and that's all we need, but…"

"It's not," Veronica finishes, giving a soft sigh.

"No relationship is easy, you know," Sarah says softly. "Even without the dangerous profession and the deployments, we still have to work at it. Do I wish Tim didn't have to spend months at sea every couple of years? Sure. Do I get lonely when he's gone? Of course I do." She shakes her head, giving a soft smile. "But flying—the Navy—it's his passion, you know? It's part of what makes him who he is; it's part of what I love about him, and I can't ask him to give that up just because I feel lonely sometimes."

"Yeah, I know…" Veronica smiles, thoughts flitting to Logan, to that excited grin he gets whenever he talks about flying. "Same with Logan. But… I mean, what about after the baby's born? Tim's due to deploy again in a few months—they both are—and if it were me, I don't know if I could handle a newborn on my own."

"I'll let you in on a secret," says Sarah. "I have no idea how I'm going to handle it. Truth is, I'm shit-scared about what's going to happen when he deploys next year, but I know he's fully supportive and will do whatever he can, even when he's away. Plus, he's made me promise that I'll ask for help if I need it."

"Well, you know, I'm always here if you need me," Veronica tells her sincerely. "I might not know anything about babies and I can probably only offer babysitting services, but if you need help, I'm here."

"Thank you." Sarah nods, with a grateful smile. "I appreciate that, Veronica. My mom said she'll come visit as often as she can, and you know, there's a great family support system on base as well."

"Yeah." Veronica nods, having heard a little about the on-base support services from Logan.

"So, why the interest?" asks Sarah then. "Are you and Logan going to—?"

"Oh, no," Veronica cuts in quickly. "I mean, we've talked about it, but I don't know if it's something we'll ever do."

"He doesn't want kids?" Sarah asks, looking a little puzzled.

"No, _I_ don't," she admits. When Sarah frowns, she adds, "I'm just not exactly the maternal type, you know? Kids aren't something I've ever really wanted or felt I needed."

If Sarah's surprised by the admission, she doesn't show it. However, she does look concerned as she says, "But I'm guessing Logan doesn't feel the same way?"

"That's the thing: I always thought he _did_ feel the same," she says. "It was a bit of a surprise when he brought it up the other month. When he said he wanted children."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Veronica shrugs. "I want to say yes… I really do, but there's this niggling voice in my head that keeps saying, ' _What if you can't do it? What if you have a baby and you can't bond with it? What if you and Logan split up?'_ … and I can't just ignore it."

Sarah studies her thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I can't say I've been there, because I always _have_ wanted children. It just seemed like the natural path for me: get married, have babies, live happily ever after. But we both know it's not that simple."

She gives a wry smile and Veronica lifts her eyebrows in agreement.

"I never planned to marry a naval pilot," she continues, "and I certainly never expected to be alone for months at a time while said husband was deployed in dangerous parts of the world. But I love him and he loves me, and I wouldn't change my life for anything. It's going to be hard, raising a baby without him around all the time, and I'm scared too, but I know we'll get through this. And that this baby," she runs her hand over her stomach with an affectionate smile, "will be loved so much."

"Yeah." Veronica nods, giving a warm smile. "It will be."

"Look, Veronica. It _is_ scary, this whole marriage and babies, being a real adult thing; it's overwhelming sometimes, but it's also fulfilling and rewarding and _amazing_ ," Sarah tells her earnestly. "Having a baby, you're bringing this brand new life into the world; a life you're responsible for, yes, but also a life that is a part of you, a life you've created together, one you will love unconditionally, forever, and who will love you forever, too."

Veronica gives a slow nod, taking that in.

"Well, when you put it like that…" she says, thoughts flitting to Logan, trying to imagine a miniature version of him running around. She's never been able to do it before, but now… maybe. "You might be right."

* * *

Just over a week later, Wallace finds himself sitting in Veronica and Logan's living room, a beer in one hand and slice of pizza in the other. Logan's Navy friend, Chaos, is here too, along with Dick Casablancas. Veronica, sadly, is out working a case, leaving Wallace to fend for himself. He's still not sure how he ended up here tonight. No, that's not quite true—he's here because Veronica asked if he wouldn't mind keeping Logan company sometime, since he's been going stir-crazy in the house—what he's not quite sure about is how he ended up agreeing to spend an evening with not just Logan, but his friends too.

Chaos, he likes; the guy is intelligent and interesting to talk to—apparently he trained to be a chef before joining the Navy—but Casablancas is another story. Obviously there's something about the guy that has earned Logan's friendship and trust, but for the life of him, Wallace can't figure out what that is. And by the eye-roll Chaos gives Wallace when Dick makes some stupid comment about a TV commercial, it seems he shares the same sentiment.

"So, Wallace," says Chaos. "How's the world of education these days?"

"Pretty good." He nods. "You know, the teaching and coaching are the easy parts. It's all the teenage angst and drama that's harder to deal with."

"I can imagine," says Chaos.

"Like, there's this one kid in my junior physics class," Wallace continues. "Used to be a good kid, got good grades, never got into trouble, but last year, something changed. He's moody, uncooperative, always mouthing off. Something's obviously going on, but he won't talk about it."

"Probably just girl troubles," pipes up Dick. "I still remember how this one"—he gestures to Logan—"got every time Veronica dumped him."

"Thanks, Dick." Logan glares, throwing a balled-up napkin at his friend's head, as Chaos suppresses a smile.

"Nah, I think it's more than that." Wallace clears his throat, sitting forward in his seat, before admitting, "I think something's going on at home."

"Really?" Chaos asks.

"Yeah, I mean, obviously I can't come out and say anything, but the kid's not talking, and I don't know what I can do to help."

"Well, hey, Logan, you have experience in this area," says Dick. "What d'ya reckon?"

 _Experience in this area?_ Wallace just blinks at Logan, uncomprehending.

Logan looks to the ceiling before sighing. "For fuck's sake, Dick."

"What?" Dick shrugs, looking confused. "You do."

"Yes, but it's not…" Logan sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know what, never mind." He turns to Wallace. "Look, if you want, I could try to help, maybe talk to the kid?"

"Talk to him?" Wallace asks in confusion.

"Yeah." Logan shrugs. "I mean, if that would be okay. I've been there. I grew up with a son-of-a-bitch for a father. Luckily mine was charged with murder before he could do any more damage than he already had."

"You…" Wallace tries to arrange his thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Your dad, he…?"

"You didn't know?" Logan frowns in confusion, glancing first towards Dick, who shrugs and then to Chaos, who shows no sign of surprise at the news. "I thought it was common knowledge around these parts, what with me testifying at the trial and all."

Wallace blinks, then swallows back the bile forming in his throat as realisation dawns. Logan Echolls was _abused_ as a child?

"You were… I mean, did he…?" he can't quite form the words, the thought of what Logan might have gone through making him feel sick.

Comprehension dawns on Logan's face.

"Oh, you mean, did he touch me in the bad place?" He shakes his head, giving a wry smile. "No, he didn't. His punishments were more of the cigarette-burning, punching, belt-lashing variety."

"Geez. Seriously?" Wallace lets out a low whistle. "Man, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

Logan shrugs. "It's in the past. Bastard's dead. Can't hurt me anymore."

Wallace studies Logan for a long moment, starting to see him in a new light. Thinking about it, it makes sense; it explains a lot about why Logan used to act the way he did when they were teenagers. The guy displayed the classic signs of someone suffering physical abuse, but Wallace wasn't able to recognise them then.

"Did Veronica know?" he asks. "Back then, I mean."

"She did." Logan nods. "Not at first, but she found out after my mom died."

"Shit." Wallace straightens, an old memory coming to mind, but in a completely different light now. "That day on the beach beginning of junior year—the headlights incident—he did more than just take away your car, didn't he?"

Logan winces. "Yeah… he did."

"God, I'm so sorry, man," he says again. "You know she never would have done it if she'd known, right?"

"I know," Logan nods, lifting his hand in a 'what can you do?' gesture. "But c'est la vie."

"Look," says Wallace. "I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but I'm sorry I didn't give you the benefit of the doubt back then."

"Don't sweat it, Fennel," Logan dismisses. "I was a jackass in high school, I can admit that. Didn't give you much reason to like, or trust me. But look, if you need someone to talk to this kid, show some support, help him figure out his options, I'd be happy to."

"Okay." Wallace nods. "Thanks, man."

They share a look of understanding, before Dick breaks the silence.

"Dude, are we done with the sharing? I need another beer."

* * *

"Fucking damn it!"

At the dining table, Veronica looks up from her laptop to see Logan struggling, and failing, to push himself up off the couch, his still healing collarbone causing his arm to buckle under his weight. His body slumps back against the cushions.

She stands up and walks across the room, taking a seat beside him. "Logan, I know you're eager to get up and go, but remember what the doctor said: you don't need to wear the sling anymore, but no putting unnecessary weight on that arm."

"I _know_ that, Veronica," he mutters in annoyance, slinging his good arm over his eyes. "I don't need you on my fucking case as well."

Unfazed by the irritable retort, having experienced him in this mood often over the last few weeks and knowing it's just because he's frustrated, she smiles softly at the picture he makes, before replying kindly, "Well, too bad, because I am."

"Well, fuck that," is his response, though there's no heat behind the words, just tiredness and resignation.

"Look," she says. "I know you're pissed, and I know how much you hate feeling dependent on someone else, but it's only for a few more weeks."

"Yeah, whatever," he mutters childishly, though he lowers his arm, letting it fall to his lap.

"Listen, you want to be cleared to fly again, right?" He nods, avoiding her gaze and looking down at his hands. "So, you need to do everything you can to make sure you recover fully, so there's no reason not to sign you off. Which means, if the doctor tells you not to put weight on that arm, then don't, okay?"

"Yeah, I know," he says reluctantly. He sighs, glancing at her. "I'm just fucking tired of this, Veronica. I need to get back out there again." He gestures toward the window. "I'm bored, and frustrated, and I feel helpless just sitting around here all day. I wanna go for a run; I wanna get back in the water. I wanna fly my fucking jet again."

"I know you do." She reaches out to run her fingers through his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp, just how he likes. "And I wish I could wave a magic wand and make you all better, but I can't."

"I know," he says again.

She shifts on the couch, curling her legs under her as she slides her free hand up over his chest and rests her head on his shoulder. His head tilts so it's touching hers and they sit together in silence. A feeling of raw emotion spreads through her chest as she thinks about how much she loves this man. The last few weeks, spending so much time with Logan, have made her realise exactly what he means to her, how she'd do anything to see him happy, to heal all his wounds if she could.

Logan has grown up, matured, so much since they were a couple in college; he's grown into the man she always knew he could be, and it's so amazing to see it, to be part of his life now, to be loved by him.

She never thought she would be in this position with anyone, never believed she and Logan could get to this point, could make it work in a steady, stable relationship. She never believed she could find this kind of love with another person—and really, she'd been kidding herself to think she could be truly happy with Piz—but now here she is, head over heels in love with her oldest friend, with the one person in the world who really knows her inside and out, who knows all her faults, knows the details of her sordid past, knows her hopes and dreams, along with her fears and worries.

And she knows _him_ better than anyone else in the world. He lets her see parts of him he would never dream of showing anyone else, he lets himself be vulnerable around her, and makes her feel comfortable enough to completely let her guard down around him.

They're each other's equals. They're meant to be. Forever.

 _So, what are you so scared of, Veronica?_ The thought niggles at the back of her mind.

She wasn't kidding when she suggested getting married the other week; she meant it, of course, but her motivations were mostly rational. She'd pushed the emotional side of things to the back of her mind and had focused on the practicalities—and benefits—of being married to a naval officer. However, these last few weeks, with Logan having survived what could have been a fatal crash with only minor injuries, and having him around 24/7 for the first time in months, it's got her thinking, made her realise how much she loves him, how she can't imagine what she'd do if he ever… she can't even finish the thought.

She's finally admitting to herself that maybe she really would like to marry him, not because it's the sensible thing to do, but because she _wants_ to. Because he makes her happy. Because he's a wonderful, brave, determined, amazing person. Because he fills the hole in her heart that she hadn't realised was there until he came back into her life.

Because she loves him.

Her hand slides up from his chest to cup his jaw as she lifts her head and turns to kiss him. He responds immediately, his mouth moving gently against hers. Veronica shifts, kneeling on the couch so she can kiss him properly, her tongue tracing his lower lip until he opens for her. Needing to be even closer, she cradles his face in both palms as she deepens the kiss, tongues tangling as she puts every emotion she can into it. To his credit, he doesn't falter, taking it in his stride and responding with equal fervour. She doesn't even realise that a tear has slipped from her eye and is sliding down her cheek until his thumb brushes it away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily.

"Nothing." She smiles. "Just, uh… emotions. Lots of emotions."

"What emotions?"

She swallows, waiting for the usual hesitation, the fear, that normally comes with laying herself bare like this, but it doesn't come.

"Oh, you know…" She traces his lower lip with her finger. "Affection, desire… love."

His lips curl up. "For me?"

"Of course for you." She resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Even though I've been a total pain in the ass for the last month?" At her surprised expression, he adds, "Oh, don't think I haven't heard your sighs and seen your eye-rolls whenever I've ranted and moaned."

"I love you, Logan," she tells him sincerely. "Rants and all."

An indulgent smile spreads across his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiles too. "I love all of you. The good, the bad… the morally questionable." He grins at that. "At the risk of sounding cheesy… you're The One."

"Me too. To all of that." He strokes her cheek with his thumb, looking into her eyes as he says softly, "Veronica, you've always been The One for me."

She swallows against the lump forming in her throat in response to his declaration.

"Even back when we were kids," he continues, "back when Lilly was alive, even when we 'hated' each other, there was just something about you. You got under my skin in a way no one else ever did and no one else ever could. Veronica, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I want that, too," she admits, taking a deep breath, then licking her lips. "What I said the other week, about getting married… I know you think I was just coming at it from a practical standpoint—hey, don't deny it," she adds when he starts to protest. "And at the time, I probably was, but I've been doing some thinking, and you need to know that I _do_ want it. For me."

"Really?" He looks a little shell-shocked at the revelation.

"Yeah," she confirms. "I mean, there's still this small part of me that's just a _teeny_ bit scared, but at the end of the day, I love you. And I want to be with you, for the rest of my life."

"Seriously?" He's staring at her now, as if he can't make sense of the words coming out of her mouth. Veronica suppresses a smile at his befuddled expression.

"Yes, seriously." She nods firmly. "So, what do you say, Lieutenant Echolls… shall we get married?"

He looks at her consideringly for a moment, expression filled with affection, before saying, "No."

"What?" She blinks in shock, uncomprehending. "No? I thought you wanted—?"

"I do," he confirms. "Believe me, I do. But give a guy a chance to propose, huh?"

"Oh." Relief floods through her. _Thank God._ "Okay. Well… go on, then. Propose."

He studies her for a moment, then licks his lips, then gives a smirk. "Nope."

"What?" Veronica's feeling more confused by the second. _What is he playing at?_ "Logan, if you're messing with me…"

He smiles, leaning in and rubbing his nose against hers before kissing her softly. "I'm not messing with you."

"I don't understand…" she murmurs, pulling back and looking at him searchingly.

"Look, I only plan to propose once in my life, and when I do, I want it to be special. And a surprise," he explains. "So, I'm not going to do it now."

"Right..." Veronica murmurs faintly. "Okay… well, uh, any idea when this proposal might happen?"

He just gives her a look. "Well, that would defeat the object of it being a surprise, wouldn't it? Gotta keep you on your toes."

He smirks, looking smug, which causes Veronica to narrow her eyes.

"Oh, you think you're so smart, don't you?"

He clicks his tongue in response, looking pleased with himself. "Yep."

Veronica just shakes her head in amusement, before saying, "Okay, fine. I'll let you have your surprise proposal."

"Thank you." He grins.

"So, now we've established where we stand on the whole proposal thing, what were you trying to get up for just now?"

"Oh, uh…" Logan chuckles. "I need to pee."

"Well, shit." She gives a soft laugh. "I'm sorry. I totally side-tracked you. You're probably ready to burst."

"Not far off," he admits.

"Come on," she offers her arm, helping him up. "Let's get you to the bathroom."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** Okay, so here we go: the penultimate chapter of this story... an epilogue will follow soon :).

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen**

Logan's cast is removed the second week of June and he's cleared to return to work shortly thereafter. He's been relegated to desk duty for now, while he regains the strength and muscle tone in his leg, and until his collarbone has healed completely, but it's better than nothing. He still can't drive, which means relying on either Veronica, Dick, or Chaos for a ride to the base each day, sometimes staying over with Chaos and Sarah when it's too late to get back to Neptune.

He's attending regular physical therapy sessions and his therapist says he's making good progress, but truthfully, he's feeling claustrophobic and frustrated, eager to get back in the air again. His OC is still refusing to make any kind of statement about whether he's likely to be cleared to fly again, saying he has to be signed off by his doctor first, so Logan's in limbo and it's pissing him off.

On the brighter side, he's still marvelling over the fact that Veronica actually wants to marry him, as in, really, truly wants to. Since she told him as much a couple of weeks ago, she's been showing her affection toward him much more than normal, and while it does show her decision has come from the heart this time, there's a niggling thought at the back of his mind that it's actually a case of her trying to butter him up for his promised proposal.

While he's never been the most conventional person, given he never thought he would get married at all, he has to admit that now that it's a real possibility, he wants to do things right; which is why, on Saturday morning, while Veronica is out with Wallace and Mac, he gets Dick to drive him over to Keith's.

"Logan?" Keith looks surprised when he opens the door.

"Morning, sir," he greets with a tentative smile. "I was hoping I could speak with you about something?"

"Of course." Keith's confusion clears, replaced quickly with a smile as he holds open the door. "Come on in."

"Thanks." Logan steps forward, limping a little as he enters the house, his leg still weak.

"Here, take a seat." Keith gestures to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

"Coming right up."

Keith disappears into the kitchen, leaving Logan sitting awkwardly in the living room. He starts glancing around the room, but quickly turns his attention to his hands when his eyes fix on the pillar a few feet away, causing his cheeks to heat. He doesn't need to be reminded of incredible reunion sex with Veronica when he's trying to have a serious discussion with her father.

"Here you go." Keith returns to the room, handing him a glass, before taking a seat in the armchair off to the side. "How are you doing, Logan? Healing well?"

"Yeah." He nods, patting his leg. "Getting my strength back. Collarbone's good, too. I'm doing exercises, but it's gonna be a while before I regain full movement."

"Veronica tells me you're back at work now?"

"I am," says Logan, taking a sip of water and then placing the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. "Stuck behind a desk until I'm cleared to fly again."

Keith tries, and fails, to suppress a smile. "Bet you're loving that."

"Oh, it's a ball." He can't stop the sarcasm from slipping out, even as he gives an internal wince.

Luckily, Keith's smile widens and he nods.

"Believe me, I know all about that. Last year, Veronica practically had to lock me out of the office while I recovered from the accident," he says. "It was hard enough for _me_ to just sit back and not do anything; I imagine it's been even harder for you, given your profession."

"Yeah," Logan agrees readily. "It's been fucking torture."

 _Shit_ , he thinks, _what are you doing swearing in front of your future fiancée's father?_

"Sorry," he says quickly. "Excuse my language."

Keith just continues to smile, looking amused. "It's okay, Logan. We're all adults here."

"Yeah."

"So, you wanted to talk to me about something?" Keith changes the subject.

"Yes, I did." _Here goes_. "I love your daughter, more than I ever thought I could love anybody, and the most amazing thing is, she loves me too."

"She does," Keith agrees kindly. "Much to my chagrin, being with you makes her happy."

"She makes me happy, too." Logan glances down at his hands, pressing them together as he gathers his courage. "I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Which is why I'm here: to ask for your blessing to marry her."

He chances a glance at Keith, who looks a little taken aback. He doesn't say anything for a long moment, just stares at Logan with an unreadable expression.

"Uh, Mr. Mars?"

"Oh." Keith blinks. "Sorry, Logan. It's just… that was the last thing I was expecting you to say."

"Really?" Logan's surprised. "Veronica said she'd talked to you about the possibility."

"Oh, she did," says Keith wryly. "I'm not so much surprised at the prospect of you getting married, as I am that you're actually asking me for my blessing. Didn't peg you for the traditional type."

"Ah, well, me either," Logan admits. "But then, I never expected to be in a position to get married at all."

"And Veronica?" Keith asks. "Last I spoke to her, she wasn't too enamoured of the whole idea. Wouldn't want you to end up disappointed."

Logan gives a soft smile. "It seems Veronica's had something of a change of heart."

"Really?" Keith's expression suggests he wasn't expecting that either. "Well, I have to say, I'm glad. I hadn't realised she'd been so against the idea all this time."

"Yeah, it's taken a while to get her head around it, but I think she's realising she doesn't need to be so cynical." Logan nods, then turns serious, nerves resurfacing. "So, uh… you haven't answered my question…"

"I wasn't aware you'd actually asked it." Keith's expression is serious, but his tone is light.

"I assumed it was implied…" Logan says hopefully, but Keith isn't budging, instead just giving him an expectant look. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. "Mr. Mars, will you give me your blessing to ask for Veronica's hand in marriage?"

Keith purses his lips as he studies him thoughtfully. Logan tries to stay calm, remain stoic in the face of his possible future father-in-law, but inside his nerves start getting the better of him, his palms becoming sweaty as he waits for him to speak.

Keith's eyes narrow, giving what Logan recognises as his stern, Sheriff's stare. The very stare that used to have him shaking in his boots as a teenager.

"Will you promise to always love her, to be loyal and faithful, and to treat her as she deserves to be treated?"

"Of course, Mr. Mars," Logan replies earnestly. "She's the love of my life."

Keith's gives a slight smile in response, and Logan frowns, feeling like he's missing out on an inside joke.

"And will you willingly deal with the recklessness at work, the sarcastic comebacks, the constant pop culture references, and the odd habit of eating ice cream for dinner?"

At that, Logan's mouth twitches and he allows himself to relax slightly. "Definitely."

"Well, then, Logan," Keith says with a half-smile. "You have my blessing."

Logan lets out a sigh of relief, the tension dissipating from his body. "Thank you, sir."

"Look, son…" Keith leans forward in his chair. "I know I haven't been easy on you, and haven't always trusted that you've had my daughter's best interests at heart, and I want to apologise for that."

"Thank you, sir," he repeats, for lack of anything better to say.

"I misjudged you back then, Logan," Veronica's father continues. "I worried that you would hurt Veronica, that you couldn't be the solid, dependable, loving man I wanted for her, that you would—"

"That I would lie, cheat, disrespect her?" Logan finishes for him. "Mr. Mars, you have to know I would _never_ do that. My father might have been a lying, cheating, scumbag murderer, but I am _not_ him. I know how damaging that behaviour is and how Veronica feels about it; both of us have been affected by adultery, and I could never forgive myself if I ever hurt her like that."

"Good answer." Keith nods, looking impressed. "I will admit, back when you broke up that last time and she was so mad at you, I thought you'd cheated with that Sinclair girl—"

Logan blanches, feeling sick at the memory of the stupidest drunken decision of his life.

"While it wasn't exactly my most stellar moment, Veronica and I weren't together when that happened," he clarifies. "I didn't cheat. She was mad because of _who_ I was with. She and Madison Sinclair have a history; Veronica hates her; blames her for—"

Logan stops short, realising his mistake. As far as he knows, Veronica has never told Keith what happened to her at that party back in sophomore year, and he respects her privacy too much to spill the beans without her knowledge.

"For what?"

"Oh, uh, they were rivals back in high school," he backtracks, thinking quickly. "A prank went wrong and Veronica never forgave her for it."

"Right." Keith nods, though his expression suggests he knows there's something he's missing. "So, uh, do you have a ring yet?"

Grateful for the subject change, Logan shakes his head. "Not yet. I haven't exactly been mobile lately, and it's not like I can ask her for a ride to Tiffany's."

"Tiffany's, huh?" Keith raises an eyebrow. "While I'm not sure _Tiffany's_ is the right way to go—knowing my daughter as I do—I'd be happy to help out if you need transport, or maybe some suggestions."

"Thank you, sir."

Keith smiles. "As satisfying as it is to hear you, of all people, calling me 'sir', Keith is fine, Logan."

"Okay." Logan nods, shifting forward on the couch and holding his hand out to Keith. "Thank you, Keith."

Veronica's father nods, clasping his hand in a firm grip.

"Good luck, Logan" he says seriously, before breaking into a smirk. "I have a feeling you're going to need it if you're going to be spending the rest of your life with my daughter."

* * *

Veronica narrows her eyes as Logan enters the kitchen, looking delectable in well-fitting jeans and a dark green, long-sleeved Henley, his hair damp from the shower.

 _Yum_.

She resists the urge to lick her lips and instead focuses on why she's annoyed with him. It's been a month since she told him she was ready to get married, and since then… nothing. No surprise proposal, not even an acknowledgement or hint of when it might come. It's got her on edge.

"Good day?" she asks cordially as he pours a mug of coffee, then offers the pot to her.

"Not bad. Glad it's Friday." He flashes her a smile as she holds out her mug and he fills it with steaming coffee. "Had physical therapy today; looks like my leg's pretty much back to full strength."

"That's good news." Veronica can't help but smile widely as she steps closer, coming to stand beside him. She places her mug on the counter and slides her arms around his waist, taking the opportunity to inhale the scent of soap and cologne clinging to his Henley. "And the collarbone?"

"It's getting there," he says. "Still aches if I make sudden movements, but my therapist thinks I could be cleared to fly in the next few weeks."

"Really?" She grins. "That's great."

Admittedly, she hasn't exactly been the biggest fan of him flying fighter jets, but these last few weeks, she's come to understand exactly how much flying means to him and how difficult it's been for him to cope with not being able to do it. But all she wants is for him to be happy… and flying makes him happy.

"Yeah. It is." He turns so he's facing her fully. She tilts her chin up so he can kiss her gently. "Any plans for tonight? You wanna get dinner somewhere?"

"Sure." She nods. "How about Luigi's?"

Before Logan can answer, her phone rings.

"Sorry." She reaches for it, checking the caller ID. It's her father. "Hey, Dad, what's up?"

"Veronica, hi. Glad I caught you," comes Keith's voice on the other end. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour?"

"Sure." She frowns. "What do you need?"

"I've just got a lead on the Wilkinson case. I've tracked him down to the Camelot, room 226. We need to check it out tonight. I'd go myself, but I'm gonna be tied up at the office for the next couple of hours. Would you mind?"

 _Well, there go my dinner plans._

She sighs, then nods. "Yeah, okay. I can do that. What am I looking for?"

Her father relays the details as Veronica jots them down, then ends the call.

"What's going on?" asks Logan as she hangs up.

"I'm gonna have to take a rain check on dinner," she tells him apologetically. "Dad needs some help on a case."

"Now?" Logan's face falls as he leans against the counter.

"Sorry," she says. "I have to get to the Camelot. Follow up on a lead."

"Well, hey, why don't I come with you?" he suggests. "We could grab dinner after."

"Yeah, because that went so well last time." She shakes her head. "You were bored out of your mind."

He grins, pushing off the counter and sidling up to her. "Nah, I seem to remember some pretty hot sex in the backseat."

"Okay, fine. You can come," she relents, then holds up a finger when she sees his lips twitch. "Hey, no innuendos. Behave yourself."

* * *

"Okay, here's how this is going to work," says Veronica as she pulls into the Camelot parking lot and cuts the engine. "You stay in the car, I'll head up, stake out the room and grab a few pictures. Once I have what I need, we can get out of here."

"No, I'm coming with you," he says, shaking his head. "I don't want you skulking around alone outside this guy's motel room."

"Logan, no," she insists forcefully. "This is my job; you can't be involved."

"How about for appearances' sake then?" he suggests. "It'll look much less suspicious if you're on your way to your room with your boyfriend than if you're just hanging around the balcony for no good reason."

Veronica contemplates that for a second. She has to admit, it makes sense, even if she hates the idea.

"Okay. Fine." She exhales. "But don't draw attention to yourself."

She reaches for her bag, checks her camera is ready to go, then climbs out of the car. Logan joins her and they head up the concrete steps together. Veronica gestures for him to stay back as she approaches room 226.

"Oh, hey… this brings back memories," he comments from behind her.

"Logan, shh."

"I'm serious, Veronica." He grabs her hand, tugging her around to face him. "Look where we are."

She's about to berate him further when she looks up to find him leaning against the slatted wall, appraising her with a soft smile, and realises what he means.

"Our first kiss," she murmurs softly. "It was right here."

"It was." Logan reaches out, his thumb brushing her cheek as he tucks her hair behind her ear. He leans in, so his mouth is close to her ear. "One of the best moments of my life."

Veronica swallows, his warm breath against her skin making her shiver. "Yeah?"

He straightens, studying her with that serious, intense gaze of his for a moment, before he smiles, expression filled with affection, and kisses her. It's a slow, tender kiss, one that makes her feel light-headed and sends thrills down her spine. She has to grab onto his arms to keep her balance as he spins her around so she's now the one with her back to the wall.

"Mmm," she murmurs when he eventually breaks the kiss, her eyes still closed as she recovers. "What was that for?"

"I love you, Veronica," is his response. She opens her eyes to find him looking down at her earnestly. "I think I've always been at least a little bit in love with you, but it was right here, that day you kissed me, that I fell hard. After that, there was no one else for me but you. Everyone else just paled in comparison, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise."

"Logan, I—" she tries to respond in kind, but he doesn't let her, placing his finger against her lips.

"You've seen me at my best, and at my worst; you've been here for me when I needed you; you've helped me through some of the most difficult times of my life, and I am so grateful for everything you've ever done, and sacrificed, for me," he says softly, his voice almost hypnotic as Veronica hangs on his every word. "You're kind, and giving, and loving. You fight for what you believe is right, and you don't take any of my shit." A soft laugh escapes her lips at that. "Veronica, I can't imagine ever being without you again—deployments notwithstanding—and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you."

Veronica's heart starts to pound, her mouth going dry and a lump rising in her throat as she realises what's about to happen.

"Logan—"

He shakes his head, then takes a step back, his hand furrowing in his jeans pocket.

"Oh my God," is all she can manage as Logan slides down onto one knee, looking up at her with that crooked half-smile of his, a small, square, velvet box in his hand.

"Veronica Mars…" He opens the box to reveal a white-gold ring, a single diamond sparkling in the middle, surrounded by a blue stone on each side. "Will you marry me?"

Veronica swallows, mind going blank, her gaze fixed on the gorgeous ring he's offering to her.

"I, uh—" She blinks, tearing her attention from the ring and looking into his eyes. His expression is a mixture of hopeful and nervous. She nods—for once, she doesn't feel any hesitation or fear at the situation—and her voice is breathy as she manages a soft, "Yes."

"Yes?" he checks, nervous smile widening into a delighted grin as his body sags with relief.

"Yes." Veronica nods again, smiling widely now.

He fumbles with the box, extracting the ring and reaching for her hand. His fingers shake slightly as he slides it onto her finger, and Veronica marvels at how perfectly it fits. He must have done his homework. Before she has time to admire it further, he's standing up and pulling her into his arms, kissing her enthusiastically. She responds in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouring all her emotions into the kiss.

"I love you," he murmurs against her lips. "So much."

"I love you, too."

He spins her around again, moving her away from the wall and a couple of feet further along the balcony. Reality hits, however, when he reaches for the doorknob of the next room and Veronica pulls back, eyes widening.

"Logan, what are you doing?" she hisses, glancing toward the window, which shows a light on inside the room. "I'm supposed to be tailing the guy in that room!"

Logan just shoots her a lopsided grin, before turning the knob and tugging her inside. She opens her mouth to protest, but then stops short, taking in her surroundings as he closes the door behind them. The room is illuminated by soft lighting, cleverly disguising the not-so-pleasant interior; there's an ice bucket on the bedside table, a bottle cradled inside it, and a box of what look to be her favourite chocolates sitting on the bed.

"God, you _planned_ this." She shakes her head in wonder.

He just shrugs and grins. "Told ya it would be a surprise."

"And my dad, he was in on this too?" she questions.

"Of course. How else was I gonna get you up here?"

Barely able to comprehend the events of the evening so far, she turns to him and swats his arm. "You bastard."

"Hey, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?" he retorts.

That makes her pause, and she glances down at the ring on her finger, murmuring a soft, "Fiancé. Wow."

"Hasn't quite sunk in yet, huh?" he teases, sliding his arms around her from behind. She relaxes back against his broad chest, her hands covering his on her stomach. "What do you say we spend the next few hours making that happen?"

Veronica eyes the bed warily. "Is it safe? We aren't going to catch some nasty disease from the bedding, are we?"

"Don't worry, I brought sheets. They're all fresh." He grins, then turns more serious. "Look, I know this place isn't exactly The Grand," he says, "but it seemed fitting, you know?"

"Yeah, it is…"

Veronica extracts herself from his arms and wanders over to the bed, picking up the box of chocolates, then inspecting the bottle on the table.

"Champagne and chocolates, Logan?" she queries. "Not exactly our usual fare."

He shrugs unapologetically. "I figured since I was doing this the traditional way, I'd go all out."

"But you don't drink," she says. "Champagne's wasted on you."

"Don't worry." He advances towards her, taking the chocolates from her hand and placing them on the table. "I stashed a bottle of the non-alcoholic variety underneath."

"Well, you've thought of everything, haven't you?" she teases.

He takes her hand, running his thumb over her newly-acquired engagement ring as he brings it to her lips, kissing the back of her hand.

"Come to bed, Veronica," he requests, a glint in his eye. "I want to ravish my new fiancée."

"Oh, if you insist," she returns airily, letting him pull her down to the bed.

* * *

Veronica can't take her eyes off the ring on her finger. She's never been one of those girls who needs expensive, glistening jewellery, but Logan has done well with this ring. It's the most gorgeous thing she's ever seen, and it's perfect for her: beautiful but compact and not too flashy. She's not even going to ask how much it cost; she'd rather remain blissfully unaware.

"Everything okay?" Logan asks from his position behind her in the bed, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. "You haven't been able to take your eyes off that thing for the last twenty minutes."

"Perfect," she says softly, her voice almost dreamy. "This ring is perfect. Everything's perfect."

"Wow, anyone would think you were a romantic," he quips, reaching around her for a couple of chocolates, handing one to her and popping the other into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly.

"Shut up, I'm happy." She elbows him lightly, before taking a bite of the chocolate.

"I love seeing you happy," he whispers close to her ear. "I love being the one to make you happy."

She shifts a little in his arms, so she can face him. "We're gonna get married, Logan. We're actually doing this."

"We are," he confirms with a smile, then his face falls. "Wait, you're not having second thoughts?"

"Surprisingly, no," she says. "I keep waiting for them, but…nothing so far."

"Well, I'm thankful for that."

He smiles, reaching out and pushing her hair back over her shoulder, and letting his fingers linger on her bare skin. The touch leaves tingles in its wake.

"But now we've had our fill of champagne and chocolates, what do you say to round two?"

Veronica smiles, taking his chin between her finger and thumb and pulling him in for a kiss.

"I say that sounds perfect."

* * *

 _*BEEP*_

 _Message received on… 26 July… at… 11:15 am._

 _"_ _Hey, Veronica. Sorry, I'm gonna have to take a raincheck on our lunch plans. Chaos just got the call; I'm going with him to the hospital. See you later."_

 _*BEEP*_

 _Message received on… 26 July… at… 1:33 pm._

 _"_ _Veronica, not sure if you got my message. I'm at Sharp Mary Birch Hospital. Sarah's in labour. Chaos is in with her. Are you still in San Diego? If you are, can you do me a favour and pick up some shampoo and toothpaste for Sarah? Chaos forgot to pack them."_

 _*BEEP*_

 _Message received on… 26 July… at… 7:03 pm._

 _"_ _Hey, me again. Still at the hospital. The baby was born about 10 minutes ago. It's a girl. I'm gonna stick around for a while, see if they need anything. Talk soon."_

It's almost nine p.m. when Veronica arrives at the Sharp Mary Birch Hospital in San Diego, and as she rushes inside, bag full of toiletries and gifts for Sarah and the baby, she curses the fact that she put her phone on silent after Logan's first call and subsequently missed the other messages he left. As soon as she heard the latest one, she called Logan and told him she was heading back down to San Diego right away and would see him at the hospital soon.

"Hey," she says, spotting him in the lobby of the maternity ward and heading over.

"You made it." He leans down to kiss her.

"Yeah, sorry. If I'd realised, I would have been here hours ago," she explains. "But after you cancelled lunch, I got caught up in a case and didn't resurface until this evening."

"Hey, it's okay."

"How's Sarah doing?" she asks. "And the baby?"

As Logan runs his hand through his hair, Veronica realises how tired he looks—and he wasn't even in the delivery room.

"Yeah. Sarah's doing great. Exhausted, but great. The baby is—" He grins suddenly. "You know what, you need to see for yourself."

He takes her hand, linking their fingers as he leads her down the hallway. He knocks on the door of one of the rooms, then turns the knob and walks in.

"Hey, Veronica's here."

Veronica steps into the room behind Logan, finding Sarah propped up in the bed, looking completely exhausted, while Chaos sits in the comfy chair beside the bed, a tiny bundle of blankets carefully nestled in his arms.

"Hi guys," she gives a small awkward wave, feeling like she's intruding on a privat moment. "Congratulations."

"Veronica." Sarah gives her a tired smile, while Chaos just nods in greeting, barely taking his eyes off the baby.

"I brought the supplies you needed." She holds up the bag of toiletries. "And something for the baby too."

"Thank you," says Sarah, gesturing her over.

Veronica goes tentatively, unsure how to act around a woman who has just given birth. She places the bag down on the tray beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Truthfully? Like I've been hit by a truck." Her friend gives a weak smile. "I think I could sleep for a week."

"But the delivery went okay? No complications?"

"No, thank God," Chaos answers this time. "And now we have a _daughter_."

Veronica catches Sarah's eye, sharing a smile at the awe in his tone.

"That we do."

"Does she have a name yet?"

Sarah smiles, giving a slight nod. "She does. Ava Grace."

"That's a beautiful name."

"Okay, I gotta hit the head," announces Chaos. "Who wants to hold her? Veronica?"

Veronica freezes, eyes going wide. She's no good with babies, has no idea how to interact with them.

"Oh, uh, I don't—I'm not sure I—"

"Here, I'll take her." Logan steps forward smoothly, saving Veronica from having to make excuses.

"Thanks, man."

Chaos carefully hands the bundle over to Logan, who gently adjusts her in his arms as his friend gets up and heads for the door. Logan settles into the chair, sending first Sarah, then Veronica a smile, before his attention focuses on the baby.

"Hey, look at you, aren't you a little sweetheart, huh?" he croons to the child. "I'm your Uncle Logan."

Veronica can't do anything but watch, mesmerised by his adoring expression and the complete tenderness with which he's talking to the infant, gently stroking her face with the tip of his finger.

"I'll be here for babysitting duties," he's saying, "and when you're older, I'll be making sure you know how to fend off all the unwanted male attention I'm sure you're gonna get."

Veronica grins at that.

"Hey, Veronica." He looks up at her, eyes bright and shining. "Come see how adorable she is."

With a hesitant glance at Sarah, who nods encouragingly, she joins Logan, perching on the arm of the chair as she looks down at baby Ava. She's tiny, her face still blotchy and red, but Veronica can see a tuft of dark hair under the blanket, and her eyes are open; deep, blue eyes that are staring up at Logan in wonder.

"She's beautiful," she tells Sarah. "Great job, Sare."

"Thanks."

Veronica looks down at the baby once more, and this time she can't deny it; there's a definite tug in her chest at the sight of Logan holding her.

"Here," Logan shifts in the chair. "It's your turn."

"Oh, I don't think—" she declines quickly.

He frowns in confusion. "What are you so scared of? She's a baby, not a bomb."

"I'm not, it's just… she's so small and fragile," she says. "I might drop her or something."

"You won't drop her," Logan assures her, before exchanging an amused look with Sarah.

"Hey, I saw that," Veronica protests. "I can't help it; I haven't held a newborn since… well, ever."

"You'll be fine," says Sarah. "She's not as delicate as you might think."

"Okay, fine. I'll hold her."

"Great." Logan smiles, sliding out of the chair.

"Go for it, Veronica," adds Sarah.

"Here, take a seat," he says. Veronica obliges. "Okay, just hold your arms like this. Good. I'm gonna pass her over; just make sure you support her head while you're holding her."

"Okay," Veronica mutters as Logan places the baby in her arms. "Here goes."

It takes several moments to adjust to the feel of a tiny human being in her arms, but after a minute, Veronica starts to relax a little.

"See? You're a natural," Logan says, perching on the arm of the chair.

"Not sure I'd go that far," she mutters, looking down at the little girl, whose eyes are open again, looking around at the world.

It hits her out of nowhere.

One moment, she's awkwardly holding her friend's new baby, unsure what to do, and the next, said baby is looking up at her curiously, tiny fingers clutching at the blanket, and she's feeling this crazy rush of emotion toward a child that isn't even hers.

 _Oh God, is this that broodiness everyone talks about? Some primal need I never thought I had, rearing its ugly head?_

"Hey, you okay?" Logan's hand slides across her back.

"Yeah." She nods, then looks up at him. Their eyes lock and something passes between them. She swallows. "Yeah, I'm okay."

 _Oh God. Oh God, oh God. It's happening._

She's suddenly seeing this really vivid picture of her and Logan with a child of their own, and not only that, but she's feeling it—this strange desire to have a baby—it's like an ache in her stomach and tightness in her chest all at the same time.

 _Shit_.

"Okay, I'm back." Chaos enters the room again, bringing Veronica out of her thoughts. "Everything okay?"

As if on cue, Ava starts whimpering in Veronica's arms, and within seconds the whimpering turns into full-out crying. Veronica sends a panicked look towards Sarah, but her friend just shakes her head, indicating it's nothing she's done wrong.

"She's probably hungry," says Chaos, moving over to her and holding out his hands. "Here, I'll take her."

"Thanks," says Veronica as Chaos lifts the child out of her arms and carries her over to Sarah.

"Guess that's our cue to leave you guys to it," says Logan, standing up. "Congratulations, both of you."

"Thanks, Logan," Sarah says, trying to calm the baby.

"Thanks for everything, man." Chaos holds out his hand to Logan. "We couldn't have got through today without you."

"Anytime."

"And Veronica." Chaos turns to her. "Thanks for being here."

"My pleasure."

"We'll drop by soon, okay?" says Logan. "Just let us know when's a good time."

"Will do."

They exit the room and start heading down the corridor, but Veronica only makes it a few feet before she drops down on one of the chairs along the wall. Logan quickly joins her.

"Hey, are you all right?" He reaches for her hand, squeezing reassuringly.

"Yeah." She flashes him a quick smile. "I'm just uh… still getting my head around the fact that Chaos and Sarah are _parents_ now."

"I know."

"I mean, I've been so engrossed in college and law school, and working for my dad again… I haven't really been in a position to have friends who are starting families. It's kind of…"

"Overwhelming?"

"Yeah."

"I felt the same way when the guys in my squadron started having kids," he admits. "It was like they'd all suddenly grown up and I hadn't even noticed."

There's a pause before Veronica says, "Logan… back in that room, when you were holding her, when _I_ was holding her…I felt… God, I don't know."

"You felt _it_ , didn't you?" he asks knowingly. "I could see it in your eyes."

Veronica nods slowly. "I think I did. We were just sitting there, and then suddenly I could picture it. You, and me, and a baby."

He's silent for a long moment, before he clears his throat. "Are you saying you—?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, Logan." She shrugs helplessly. "I'm still trying to process it."

"That's okay." He slides an arm around her shoulders.

"Maybe…" she starts quietly. "I mean, a baby would be a part of both of us, you and me, something _we_ made… and maybe that bond is more important than what might happen in the future. Maybe that outweighs everything else. Maybe—"

"Veronica, it's okay," Logan cuts in. "We don't have to make any big decisions right now…"

"I know."

"There'll be plenty of time for that in the future," he assures her. "Let's just take things one step at a time."

"Yeah." She nods, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right."

"Besides, we have a wedding to plan first."

Veronica relaxes, the tension draining from her body. She leans towards him, kissing him gently.

"We do."


	18. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

I just want to quickly address a guest review I received for the last chapter:

This story is about Veronica's emotional journey as she enters into a long-term, committed relationship with Logan, during which she finds herself re-evaluating some of her long-held opinions and beliefs regarding marriage and children. It is NOT a story where Veronica gives in and agrees to have children because Logan wants them even though she doesn't, it's about two mature adults actually talking about their opinions and wants and needs, making sure the other is aware of them and understands them, and perhaps realising that they need to rethink some of their own beliefs. Logan is not pressuring Veronica into having kids (in fact, he hasn't even brought up the subject in months) and it's also not selfish to want children even though he is in the military - granted, it's not for everyone, but many military officers have children and they make it work for them. Also, Veronica is not giving up or compromising her career either. If they have children, it will be because Veronica decides she wants them and is ready, not because she wants to make Logan happy or feels pressurised by him. And if they don't, then Logan will accept and respect her decision not to have them.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 **Late January 2018**

Veronica tilts her head up toward the sun, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses, a soft smile on her face as she relaxes in the lounger, soaking up the heat. She's happy… really, truly happy. It's an emotion she hasn't often felt in her life, at least not in as pure a form as she's feeling right now.

Logan is swimming laps in the small, private infinity pool connected to their hotel room—not that there's much room to do so, but he doesn't seem to care. Though he tried to persuade her to join him, Veronica is content to soak up the sun and enjoy watching the way his muscles bunch and flex as he moves through the water. She thinks back over the events of the last few days, unable to believe they actually happened. Here she is—here _they_ are—spending their honeymoon in a luxury hillside hotel in the rainforest, with gorgeous views of both mountains and ocean. It's like paradise.

The got married on Saturday afternoon, exactly two years to the day since they said goodbye at the base after those incredible two weeks of bliss. The ceremony was held at the far end of Dog Beach in a small alcove, surrounded by rocks on one side and the crashing waves on the other, with just their closest friends in attendance. Mac was her Maid of Honour, while Logan, after much debate, eventually chose Chaos as his Best Man, with Dick as the sole groomsman. Both of her parents were in attendance, Hunter too, along with Wallace and his new girlfriend, Sarah and Ava, and Cosmo and his wife.

It was perfect.

Honestly, Veronica didn't want a traditional celebration. Just something private and discreet, something that was just about _them,_ without all the pomp and circumstance. Her only real stipulation was that Logan had to wear his dress whites for the ceremony. Her smile widens as her thoughts turn to their wedding night, which was spent in the honeymoon suite of the Ritz-Carlton in Marina del Rey before they flew down to St. Lucia Sunday morning. She's in the middle of recalling just how amazing it was, when something cold and wet covers her from head to toe.

"Oh my God!" She gasps, starting in surprise. She opens her eyes and glares at Logan from beneath her sunglasses as he covers her warm, dry body with his soaking wet one. "Logan, get the fuck off me."

"Nope." He grins down at her, supporting his weight on his elbows, the length of his body pressed against hers. "It's fun watching you squirm."

"What are you, five?" She rolls her eyes.

"I'm lonely." He gives an exaggerated pout. "Come in the pool."

"No." She shakes her head.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm perfectly happy here."

"I'll make it worth your while," he teases suggestively.

"Oh, yeah?" Veronica lifts her sunglasses and crooks an eyebrow at him.

He pushes up onto all fours, kissing her gently before pulling back and grinning down at her. "Definitely."

"Okay, fine." She sighs with faux irritation. "I'll go in the pool."

He grins widely and pulls her up off the lounger. As he tugs her into the water. Veronica tries to look annoyed, but instead, she can't help smiling at how relaxed and content he seems.

"That's better," he says, crouching in the shallow water as he pulls her onto his lap.

Veronica slides her arms around his neck, her eyes locking with his, just drinking him in for a long moment. His lips twitch and then break into a wide smile, and she can't help but smile back. A second later, he laughs softly and spurred on by his amusement, she laughs too.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing."

Veronica turns her head, taking in the incredible view. Their room is open, the four-poster bed just a few yards from the pool and sun loungers, which look out over the blue ocean and green mountains.

"God, this place is amazing."

"Isn't it?"

While her head is still turned, Logan presses a kiss to her neck. It sends a tingle of sensation through her, making her shiver. His hands move along her sides and around to cup her breasts. Sliding the material of her bikini top aside, he brushes his fingers across her nipples.

"Mmm." She sighs. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he murmurs against her skin, one hand sliding down over her stomach and slipping into her bikini bottoms.

His fingers slide between her lips, seeking out the sensitive flesh of her clit, and Veronica inhales sharply, her heart racing as he begins stroking, slow and steady. She's so caught up in the sensations, she doesn't even notice he's manoeuvred them over to the side of the pool until she feels the cool stone pressing against her back.

She gives a whimper of protest when he pulls his hand away, but then he's cupping her bottom, pushing her upward as his mouth glides down over her collarbone, lips covering one nipple and sucking gently. She clutches at his hair, both for balance and to hold him close as her back arches. He moves to the other nipple, then kisses and licks a trail over her stomach. He urges her further out of the water, so she's lying back against the warm tiles. His mouth brushes over the material of her bikini bottoms, right over her clit, before he tugs them down, leaving her bare to him.

Veronica's eyes close, the sun warm on her face, as she concentrates on the feeling of Logan's tongue and fingers working their magic on her sensitive flesh. There's nothing better in the world than Logan going down on her like this… well, almost nothing.

* * *

On Wednesday night, three days into their honeymoon, Veronica is swaying against Logan on the dance floor of a local bar in Gros Islet, a contented, dreamy look on her face. He can't help but smile as he looks down at her. She seems so happy, carefree, and he just wants to capture this moment, freeze it in place forever. It's not often that she lets down her walls like this, and he wants to savour it. Admittedly, she's a little—okay, a lot—tipsy, but that's what's so great about this moment; Veronica has to feel really comfortable and safe with someone before she'll allow herself to get drunk around them. And it feels amazing to know he's the one she trusts so completely to keep her safe.

Of course, he's stone-cold sober, same as he has been for more than nine years, but that doesn't matter. He's learned to live without alcohol and to deal with being around people who are drinking, and while he certainly misses it—desperately so, sometimes—he's determined not to fall off the wagon, especially after he came so close to doing so just over a year ago, after Bilbo.

"You know what?" she says suddenly, lifting her head to look up at him.

"What?" he asks with a smile.

"We should stay here. Live in paradise."

"Yeah?" Logan presses his lips together to stop himself from smirking at the slight slur of her words.

"Uh, huh." She nods. "Can you imagine it? Long walks on the beach, surfing, hiking in the hills…"

"Since when do you hike in the hills?"

She frowns, looking puzzled. It's adorable. "We're going up Gros Piton on Friday."

"Yeah, but other than that?"

"Uh, well…"

"Exactly."

"I could learn to love it," she insists.

"Maybe you could, but what about your job?" he reasons. "I can't see there being much of a seedy underbelly to investigate here in _paradise_."

"Well, no, probably not…"

"And I'm in the Navy, I can't leave on a whim," he reminds her. "Plus, you can't just up and move to another country; you need visas and shit."

"Yeah…" She seems to ponder this for a moment, before frowning again, swatting at his arm. "Hey, stop trying to ruin my buzz."

"Sorry." He grins, tightening his arms around her.

"I need another drink," she states then, tone decisive.

"Do you?" he wonders. "You've already had three of those cocktails, not to mention wine with dinner."

"And?" is her immediate response.

"And nothing," he adds quickly. "If you want another drink, go for it."

"You know, I wasn't asking your permission." She raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, I wouldn't _dream_ of assuming that," he teases.

"It's my honeymoon," she says with a firm nod. "If I want another drink, I'm damn well gonna have one."

He gives a short laugh. "Go on, then."

She just looks up at him, cocking an eyebrow expectantly.

"Okay, fine." Logan sighs, disentangling himself from her. "One drink coming up. Same again?"

She nods happily. "Please?"

"I'll be right back."

Even as he makes his way to the bar, he can't help chuckling. Veronica's delightful when she's tipsy like this. He orders another colourful cocktail for her and a mango juice for himself and, as he waits for the bartender to make the drinks, he turns, leaning against the counter, his eyes going to Veronica again.

She's returned to the small booth they've claimed as their own for the night and is playing with the beer mats on the table. She looks amazing; tropical island life certainly agrees with her. Her skin is flushed—a combination of sun exposure and the alcohol—and her hair loose and untamed, flowing around her shoulders, just a single flower tucked behind her ear. The floaty sundress she's wearing completes the sun-kissed, beachy look. He feels a sudden urge to take her up on the suggestion to just stay here forever, hidden away from the pressures and stresses of everyday life.

Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen. He deploys again in just over 3 weeks, and it's for 8 long months this time. They have an unspoken agreement to avoid the subject this week and focus on enjoying their tropical paradise honeymoon instead, but he knows it must be lurking at the back of Veronica's mind, just like it's at the back of his.

The bartender hands him the drinks and he makes his way back to the booth, handing the cocktail to Veronica and taking a sip of his juice as he slides in beside her.

"Thanks." Veronica flashes him a winning smile, then leans over to kiss him, before bringing the glass to her lips.

They stay at the bar until they've finished their drinks, then stumble back to their room—well, Veronica stumbles. Logan makes it there perfectly fine, thank you very much.

As soon as they're inside, the door locked, Veronica presses him up against the wall, rising up on tiptoes and kissing him urgently. Her hands slide up under the thin material of his shirt, fingernails scraping over his skin. His stomach muscles contract, a thrill of arousal shooting to his groin. She breaks the kiss, kissing her way along his jaw as her hands slide out from under his shirt, then drift to the lapels. Logan lets out a soft groan when she sucks on his earlobe, gently nibbling the skin before tugging on the shirt, popping the buttons.

He grins. "Eager, tonight, are we?"

She lifts her head, desire and urgency evident in her expression. "I need you. I wanna have dirty, naughty sex with you. Right now."

"You do, huh?" he manages, though his voice catches in his throat as his arousal strains against the confines of his pants.

"Yep."

She grins wickedly, her hands dropping to his pants and deftly unfastening his belt, then popping the button and sliding the zipper down. Logan's head falls back against the door, watching Veronica from under hooded eyes as she eases the pants down and wraps her fingers around his length.

"God…" he grinds out, but all too soon, she releases him. He frowns. "No, keep going…"

She shakes her head, tugging her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, before saying, "No. I wanna watch you do it."

He blinks, swallowing harshly even as his cock twitches. "You what?"

"You heard me." She grins mischievously. "Touch yourself. Show me what you like."

"You already know what I like," he says, though really, why the fuck is he arguing about this?

"I'm drunk," she says simply, as if that explains it. Her fingers wrap around him again, squeezing gently. "Come on. Indulge me."

"Okay."

His hand moves to cover hers over his erection, fingers entwining. Their hands move up and down together a couple of times before she slides hers away. As he continues stroking, Veronica tugs his pants down the rest of the way and helps him step out of them. Then she undoes the remainder of his shirt buttons, pulling the material down over his shoulders. Logan releases his grip for a moment to discard the shirt, then he's standing naked before her, stroking leisurely.

"God, you're hot." Her eyes travel down the length of his body.

"Yeah?" He feels emboldened by the hunger evident on her face, the lust in her eyes, the arousal pumping through his veins. "You like it?"

His hand slows a little, movement deliberate, drawing her attention. She licks her lips, then nods. "Uh huh."

"What do you want me to do?" His voice catches in his throat as he speaks.

"Just, uh… just keep doing that," she says, tone breathy.

She steps forward, placing her hands against his chest, running her fingers over his bare skin, nails scraping over the ridges of his stomach. She leans in, tongue darting out and flicking his nipple, before drawing it into her mouth. Logan sucks in a sharp breath as one of her hands slides around to cup his ass, fingers digging into the skin as the other cups his balls.

"Fuck…" he grinds out.

"That's it," she murmurs encouragingly as he strokes faster now, his hips pumping as he strains for release.

"V'ronica," he manages, barely holding on. "I need… please…"

Her hand moves to cover his, stopping his movements as she rises up, her lips almost touching his, and whispers, "Not yet."

She kisses him, soft and sweet, and Logan swallows, closing his eyes. He's so close to coming he's not sure he can hold out much longer.

"Open your eyes," she murmurs.

He obliges, doing so in time to see her step back into the middle of the room.

"Now it's your turn to watch me." She grins, holding up one finger. "But no touching _anything_ , okay?"

Logan groans, head dropping back against the door again, heart pounding and head swimming with arousal. His cock stands hard and erect, straining for release, and there's nothing he can do about it.

"Geez, Veronica… you're killing me here."

She just cocks an eyebrow, smiling widely as she pushes the straps of her sundress down over her shoulders. "That's kind of the point."

Logan can only stare, slack-jawed, as she shimmies out of the dress, revealing perky, bare breasts and pale-pink panties. He presses his palms flat against the door in restraint.

She lets her hands drift down over her body, sliding down along her sides, over her stomach, then up, cupping her breasts and brushing her thumbs over her nipples, just how she likes him to do it. Her eyes are locked with his, lustful and hooded as she gently rubs and kneads her pliant flesh.

Logan's breaths are coming harder now, heat pooling low in his belly, gaze following her hand as it slides down and into her panties. A gasping moan escapes her lips as she strokes slowly.

"I'm so wet, Logan," she murmurs silkily. "That's what you do to me."

He groans again, then swallows harshly as she brings her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean.

"Fuck, Veronica," is all he can manage. _What are you doing to me?_

"Wanna taste?" she teases, a glint in her eye as she hops up onto the table a couple of feet away.

"God, yeah."

He starts to move toward her, but she holds up a finger in warning. "Nuh uh, not yet. You stay right there, Lieutenant."

Barely holding onto his self-control, he nods in resignation, giving a whispered, "Okay."

Her hand dips into her panties once more, as she leans back, supporting her weight on her other hand. She makes quite a picture, perched on the table, legs spread, naked apart from those tiny panties and a pair of heels. Her hair cascades over one shoulder and her face is flushed. She looks like a fantasy come true.

Her fingers work faster now, rubbing herself beneath the thin, pink fabric. Though he can't see exactly what she's doing, he can certainly picture it. He can tell when she slides one finger inside herself, even as she keeps up the pressure on her clit, because she lets out a low moan—just like when he does the same.

He's struggling to stay in control, every breathy gasp and moan from her going straight to his groin. His head is spinning. He needs release.

"God, yeah…" she's muttering now, hips rocking against her hand. "I'm gonna…"

"Hey, hey, hey," he interrupts quickly, boldly. "None of that. If I don't get to come, then you don't either."

"Fuck, Logan…" she practically whines. "I'm almost there."

"And?" he counters. "So am I."

She stops, contemplating that for a second, before nodding decisively, removing her hand from her panties and beckoning him over. "Then get over here. Now."

"With pleasure."

He's in front of her in a flash, standing between her legs and pulling her close as he reaches across the table for a condom—realising belatedly that they left the open box out in full view all day—and rolls it on.

Tugging her panties to one side, he runs one finger over her clit, grinning as she bucks in response, then down between her lips, finding her so wet and ready for him it makes his stomach muscles clench.

"Yeah…" she murmurs, eyes closing in pleasure.

He grins, teasing her with the tip of his cock for a moment, before sliding up into her.

"Oh my fucking God…" The words leave her in a rush and Logan can't help but chuckle softly in response.

"Good, huh?"

"Yeah," she nods, expression a mixture of dreamy and turned on. "Fuck me, Logan. Hard and fast."

His hands curve around her butt, pulling her even closer as he thrusts deeper this time.

"I love it when you're tipsy and uninhibited like this," he manages between thrusts.

"We're on vacation," she says, stretching up to brush her mouth over his. "I'm letting my hair down. It's fun, and freeing."

"Well, I like it."

"Oh, I bet you do," she teases, squeezing her inner muscles around him, making him suck in a breath. "It doesn't happen often, so make the most of it."

As if to punctuate her words, she leans back on her elbows, then eases herself lower, so she's lying flat on the table, arms spread.

"Take me. I'm at your mercy, Echolls."

He grins. Sliding his hands from her butt, up over her hips and stomach and to her breasts, gently kneading them in his palms as he strokes inside her.

"Oh, this is gonna be a fun night."

* * *

Friday morning dawns warm and humid. Not the best conditions for hiking 3,000 feet up a mountain—which is really not Veronica's thing anyway, despite what she told Logan in the bar Wednesday night—but she's going to do it; because she knows Logan wants to, and, come on, when is she ever going to get another chance to hike through the Caribbean rainforest?

So, she dons a tank-top and shorts, laces up her newly-acquired hiking boots, and packs her bag with bottles of water, sunscreen and her camera.

"Ready to go?" Logan asks, emerging from the bathroom in a US Navy t-shirt, cargo shorts and boots, sunglasses perched atop his head.

"Sure."

Veronica smiles as he leans down to kiss her, before walking past and reaching for his bag.

They head down to the hotel lobby, where they're picked up and driven to the start of the hiking trail. They've booked a private hike and their guide, Luciano, is a jovial local man in his late thirties, who assures them they will have a great time. While the lush, green mountain before them is impressive, looking up at it, Veronica's convinced this experience will be more gruelling than fun.

The hike starts off fairly gentle, ambling through tiny villages, but when they reach the rainforest, the trail, marked by 'stairs' of volcanic rocks, really begins. Veronica can't help but feel awed by the scenery as they pass cacti and mango trees and exotic birds flitting through the forest canopy. Despite her general lack of enthusiasm over hiking, she has to confess, this is pretty fucking cool. Not that she's gonna admit that to Logan though; he's under the impression he's had to practically drag her on this hike kicking and screaming, and that she only agreed because after this they're going to bathe under the waterfall at Soufriere Falls.

About an hour or so into the hike—around halfway up the mountain, so Luciano tells them—they stop at a small, rare gap in the trees, and Veronica gets a glimpse of the view out over the sea.

"Wow."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Logan says from behind her.

"I'll say."

She lifts her camera, taking a few shots of the scenery, before turning to Logan and snapping a couple of him. Luciano sees, offers to take a picture of the two of them, and Veronica feels strangely _normal_ as they pose for the photo, Logan's arm around her waist, her leaning into his side with a wide smile. Their lives have never been particularly ordinary, not for Veronica, growing up in Neptune with a PI father and alcoholic mother, nor for Logan, with fucked-up Hollywood stars for parents, so this, right here, just being two regular tourists celebrating their marriage, is something of a luxury.

"Okay, easy part's over," Luciano announces as he hands Veronica her camera back. "This is where the trail gets more difficult. There are a lot of boulders and tree roots to trip you up, so take it easy and be careful."

As they set off, continuing further up the mountain, Veronica mutters to Logan, "Tell me again who thought this was a good idea?"

"Aw, come on, you can't tell me you're not enjoying this," he responds. "And just think of that sense of achievement you'll feel when we get to the top."

"I guess," she concedes, though it makes her pause. "Is that what it was like for you, joining the Navy? Feeling like you'd achieved something?"

"Yeah, it was." He nods. "You start off feeling like you're never gonna get through it—the training, the discipline, even just the fitness tests—but then, after all this hard work, you finally reach your goal—you pass the test, take your first solo flight, get your wings—and you realise it was all worth it. And it just pushes you to work harder, to take on the next challenge, to keep achieving."

"Yeah…" She smiles, once again reminded how much Logan has changed since he was a teenager. "I can picture that."

"Come on, Mars," says Logan, slinging a sweaty arm around her neck. "Let's tick _this_ achievement off the list."

It takes another hour and a half to reach the summit, and Veronica is tempted to give up more than once on the way up. The sun is hot now, making her uncomfortable and tired, beads of sweat running down her face. The worst thing though, is the fact that Logan barely seems fazed by the exertion. Sure, he's always been fairly fit, but when they were teenagers, his only real workouts came from surfing and sex. Since he joined the Navy though, his physical fitness has improved infinitely.

Of course, being out of action for those three months last year hadn't helped, and he lost a fair amount of muscle tone, while also gaining a bit of weight due to essentially being a couch potato for several weeks. However, as soon as he was cleared to fly again at the end of July, he threw himself back into his prior fitness regime and by the Fall, he was back to his former self.

All of her complaints and frustrations about the hike completely disappear when she steps onto the final rock on the summit. Her breath leaves her in a rush as she takes in the incredible scenery. It's _gorgeous_. The sky is a beautiful deep blue, barely a cloud to be seen, and it accentuates the dark green of the forest-covered landscape. Further out, the sun reflects off the brilliant sea, creating a glistening hue.

Logan steps up behind her, his arms sliding around her waist as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Wow, huh?"

"Yeah. God, Logan, this place..."

"I know." He nods against her shoulder. "Being up here… it's like the rest of the world doesn't exist. It's just you and me, surrounded by nature."

"I know what you mean," she says. "No real life problems up here."

He kisses her cheek, arms tightening around her.

"I didn't realise we had any real life problems," he says, tone glib. "I've been under the impression things were great."

"They are," she assures him. "I didn't mean to imply they weren't. It's just… tomorrow we'll be on a plane back home, and then it's back to reality." She sighs, hands covering his around her waist. "Logan, you're leaving in three weeks."

"I know." He sighs. "I wish I wasn't."

"Me too," she adds. "Look, I know we've been avoiding talking about it this week, because, you know, _honeymoon_ … but I can't ignore it completely."

"I know," he says again. "Me either. But we're in paradise and it's our last day here. Let's just enjoy it. We can worry about the rest when we get home."

"Yeah. Okay."

"It's beautiful view, no?" Luciano interrupts then.

He comes up beside them, gesturing to the scenery. He points out the landmarks and geographical points, then insists on taking more pictures of them together.

When he returns her camera, Veronica takes a few more photos of the landscape, then goes for some artistic close-ups of the flora and fauna, before focusing the lens on Logan once more. She grins, snapping away as he tugs off his t-shirt, then splashes cool water over his face and chest. _He's so photogenic_. After a couple of minutes, he notices what she's doing, and starts posing for her. Veronica laughs at his antics, though she doesn't stop photographing him.

It's not long before Luciano tells them they need to start their descent, but he's kind enough to give them a few moments of privacy before they begin hiking again. Veronica takes the opportunity to slide her arms around Logan's neck and tug him down for a hot, sweaty kiss.

"Don't worry about the future, Veronica. We're going to be just fine," Logan murmurs softly. He tucks her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers drift along her neck and down over her shoulder, thumb brushing her collarbone. "We love each other. We're _married_. We can get through anything; and we will. Together."

 _ **End**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

While this is the end of this fic, it's not the end of Veronica and Logan's story and I do plan to continue in another installment :).


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